Precocious
by AllisonWalker
Summary: After being sheltered for so many years in the Kaiba Mansion, Seto finally steps out from under the chains of his adoptive father, finding out more as he comes of age and begins to learn what it means to be a Kaiba...
1. Chapter 1

This was a combined effort between Katt and myself. I hope you all enjoy.

The original story was updated on my old account, Pupshitdesu, which I am no longer maintaining.

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Watching from afar, through his bedroom window, Seto wasn't quite sure what to make of the production that was happening outside. He could clearly see Isono and Damian standing near the black Bentley parked up in front of the mansion's driveway, but nothing else. Gozaburo must have been hiding in the limo, because that would be the only person both men would bother speaking to while waiting in the Japanese heat for so long. It was still hot out, and one of the reasons why Seto didn't go outside all that often.

That, and the fact he wasn't allowed off the grounds. Sure, the Kaiba Estate was huge and plenty big for exploring, but after five years living there, he wasn't so excited about going out alone. Sometimes with Mokuba it would be fun, finding weird shit in the woods and poking through brush to find baby rabbits and what not hiding in the grass, but still.

Seto was fifteen years old. He had turned fifteen years old on one of the warmest October days in decades, and despite it nearly being November, he didn't feel like the weather was ever going to let up. Going outside to face the insane heat did not appeal to him, so instead, he hid in his room, watching as he waited for someone to call him down to greet his "father".

Lip curling and eyes narrowing as he finally saw Gozaburo leave the car and walk out toward the house, Seto folded his arms and snorted. The old man was still wearing that hideous red pinstripe jacket, despite it being so out of fashion; people often made smart remarks over it. He almost felt embarrassed for the man, but it was his own image problem, and Seto had no part in it.

Really, he had no part in anything. It pissed him off that his guardian didn't trust him enough to give him more responsibility at Kaiba Corp, insisting he keep studying instead of learning actual business skills, but Seto believed that maybe a small part of Gozaburo feared what would actually happen if he was there all the time. Sure, he had the title of Vice-President of the company, but he didn't have any real control. It was like a big show, how smart Seto was and how he "managed the business", when no one actually believed he could.

And that was the greatest insult Gozaburo could have ever dealt upon him...

"Master Seto, your presence is being requested in the foyer. Your father would like to speak to you," informed one of the maids, bowing before she left the room.

Seto didn't have time to so much as nod to her before she swept out, either. Everyone in the house walked on eggshells, regardless of station or importance. No one wanted to be in the same room as the master of the house, and were nervous even around his charges. Namely Seto, who wasn't notorious for torturing the staff, but Gozaburo was unpredictable as to what was and wasn't allowed. He likely would disapprove of consorting with the servants.

He made his way through the sprawling rooms and hallways of the mansion until he reached the foyer, where Gozaburo was waiting. Seto hated the way the man looked at him, with an odd mix of disdain and smugness. It made his skin crawl, especially when their eyes met and held. He knew every time they so much as locked gazes it was a challenge; Gozaburo was daring him not to look away.

"You called for me?" Asked Seto, descending the stairs and standing at the bottom. He preferred to keep a good distance between them, lest he get a condescending muss of his hair or a heavy hand clapping down on his shoulder. He'd always been something of a touch avoider, but he'd never known he could hate a person's touch that way. Gozaburo didn't so much as touch as grab at him, and there was something sinister about the way he went about doing it...

"Yes, I have a gift for you."

Gozaburo was practically beaming, all his teeth showing as he motioned to Damian, who stood next to him. He was carrying a box of some sort in his hands, and he was grinning too, in a way that often bothered Seto. It was like his adoptive father was trying to hire the most unsettling human beings he could, just to make his life even more unpleasant than it already was.

"You don't think I forgot about your fifteenth birthday, do you Seto?" Asked Gozaburo, his eyes lying as they both knew he didn't celebrate holidays like birthdays. Unless, of course, if there was anything for him to gain by it.

"I assumed, Father, that I would be celebrating it alone with Mokuba again. As I prefer to."

"I have no intentions to threaten your _preference,"_ Gozaburo replied, his tone opposing his words for the fact that he sounded more as if he was issuing a warning, "However, I have chosen to present you with a gift."

"What have I done to possibly deserve something from you, pray tell?" Inquired Seto, his expression blank but eyes dark. He didn't even try hiding his animosity; everyone knew how much he hated Gozaburo, and it was even becoming more evident at Kaiba Corp...

"Nothing," Gozaburo replied, not even bothering with sarcasm or false kindness. Seto knew he was reminding him of his place. The infuriating part was that it worked, to an extend. In the end, no matter how snide he was toward his guardian, there was nothing he could do to change his actions or decisions. And every time Gozaburo gave him the crossroads to accept or defy it, he had to back down.

"Well that's a relief, I wouldn't want to make a habit of you actually being generous," he said rather daringly, before thinking maybe it wasn't a good idea being so disrespectful in front of the staff. He'd get angry no doubt, and Seto knew he'd be punished for his insubordination later, in private, but he didn't care. The opportunity was too great to pass up.

However, the anger he'd anticipated didn't come. Gozaburo's expression remained one of self-satisfied anticipation, as if he had already won the game they were playing and was simply waiting for Seto to run out of moves. There was a slight glimmer in his eyes that promised retribution, either soon or down the road, but he didn't act on it.

"Nor would I. However, so _special_ an occasion as your fifteenth birthday warrants more attention."

Damian stepped forward just then, cutting their conversation short. The old butler had a lidded cardboard box in his arms. There were holes in the sides and top, and odd rustling sounds could be heard from it. Seto knew already what it was, but schooled his face against a reaction. He didn't know where Gozaburo intended to take this yet. Damian didn't seem to be approaching him to give him his so-called present, but rather appeared to be looking past him. When Seto turned, following his gaze, he saw Mokuba standing near the base of the staircase railing.

He resisted looking confused or turning a questioning gaze on Gozaburo, and instead watched as Mokuba apprehensively took the box and worked the lid off. Mokuba didn't know Gozaburo's mind games as well as Seto did, but he wasn't a stupid kid. At ten years old, he was well aware that his adoptive father was not a nice person. Still, he looked hesitantly excited to see just what was in the mysterious gift box.

Once the lid was loose, it was immediately thrown off by what was inside. A dog, as Seto had suspected. More specifically, it was a fluffy-haired puppy, one that looked as if it had been just weaned. Which was probably the only reason it fit in the box, seeing as it was a shiba. Mokuba was surprised, but managed not to drop the creature that had shocked him. Instead, he gaped in surprise, and slowly grinned, grabbing the dog and holding it up as it kicked around and wagged its tail in excitement.

Seto wanted very much to tear the dog away from his brother, but he couldn't. There were people watching, and Gozaburo was standing there, trying to figure out his reaction. He couldn't chance making a show out of rejecting the gift, so instead he did nothing, just standing there while gazing at the puppy who seemed taken with Mokuba. Or rather, his brother being taken with the puppy.

"... Thank you, Father, for the gift. I'm sure Mokuba will enjoy your generosity as much as I have."

He didn't even make a move to touch the dog, and Mokuba noticed, hesitantly leaving with the dog before running up stairs to what Seto was sure his bedroom. Snorting, he knew that would be a mistake, when the puppy would eventually need to relieve itself, but that was the staff's problem, not his.

It was obvious that the dog was not for him. Despite Gozaburo calling it 'his present', Damien had been instructed to give it to Mokuba. Not him. It was simultaneously puzzling and expected. While it was only logical that Gozaburo would have the animal around but make it clear Seto was not to interact with it, his motivations were unclear. It was a way to put Seto under mental and emotional duress, perhaps, but only a little. And to no end that really benefitted Gozaburo. It was a lot of effort for a very small victory. While Gozaburo revelled in tormenting him, he also wouldn't waste so much energy.

Seto didn't have time to puzzle over it. If that was all Gozaburo had wanted him for, then he was perfectly happy to cut his losses and escape his presence as soon as possible.

"I'm also having a benefit dinner hosted soon in your honor," informed Gozaburo, "So you better behave. No smart-assed comments. And this time, refrain from insulting a member of the board. I don't care how ridiculous those men act after they drink, you _will_ be respectful."

"As you wish," replied Seto, grimacing a little, "I was only trying to tell a joke to him. It wasn't my fault he didn't find it funny."

"Asking the Premier of North Korea if he enjoys blowing up babies as much as golfing is not a joke, boy. If you know what's good for you, you won't jeopardize the future of this company by insulting our important clients."

"I wasn't trying to, Father. I was only hoping to showcase my education, as Americans often enjoy dead baby jokes, and his humor is rather worldly... Or so I thought. But I guess I was misinformed, and I won't do it again. Promise."

Gozaburo narrowed his eyes, removing his cigar case from his coat pocket and popping it open. He started lighting it as he responded.

"You know better than to cross me, Seto. If you alienate any assets to Kaiba Corporation, you can be sure your future will not be with me."

This time Seto didn't say anything, but just stared back waiting to be excused so he could deal with the puppy that was probably chewing through Mokuba's bedroom at that very moment. Saying something smart would only get him in trouble, and he already pushed Gozaburo farther than he was usually allowed to go. If it hadn't been for the people standing around the foyer, the old man probably would have hit him across the face, but even those sort of reactions were starting to phase out as he grew older.

Besides, what was a smack across a face? It stung momentarily and did nothing damaging, which was why Seto lost fear in being hit several years ago. He hadn't actually avoided such confrontation since he was twelve.

"May I be excused?" He finally asked, after having stood there for several minutes while Gozaburo stared back, smoking like a chimney.

"You may return to your room," Gozaburo replied, removing his cigar from his mouth momentarily to avoid slurring his words. Seto was wise enough to know he was being banished to his quarters more than relieved of Gozaburo's presence, but he was hardly going to complain. Wandering the halls of Kaiba Mansion was hardly a pastime of his, especially with the abundance of security. With the guards, cameras, and motion sensors, his location would be monitored at all times anyway. Better to stay in his room, alone with his thoughts and work, and allotted at least some sense of privacy.

He climbed up the stairs, careful to keep his gait smooth, his pace casual. He hated the feeling of Gozaburo's shrewd, dark eyes boring into his back, but he'd be damned if he was going to look as if he was trying to escape. Gozaburo knew he wanted to be rid of his presence, but that extra satisfaction of 'scaring' him away was something Seto would not allow him.

It crossed his mind to check in on Mokuba, and he resolved to do so at some point. Now was not the time, however; he'd have to wait until Gozaburo was preoccupied with his work and unable to stop him. Maybe he'd find out Seto visited his brother (and the dog) later on, but it mattered little after the deed was done.

It came as a bit of a surprise when he found his brother lying on his bed, playing with the dog who was currently on its back whining to have its belly scratched. Mokuba was playing with it, despite the fact that the little bugger was nibbling oh-so-fiercely on the kid's fingers. They looked perfectly content with one another, although the creature twisted and jumped off the bed once Seto came inside and raced over to greet him.

"We need to name him, Nii-sama," said Mokuba, who was on his stomach laughing, "Or else I will without your help."

"Mokuba, you know that's a bad idea. Kaiba will not let you keep a pet dog."

Mokuba's face fell for a moment, his expression a thoughtful and troubled pout. He seemed to be mulling over the prospect, and looked at the furball that was running around Seto's feet trying to get his love and attention. Seto willfully ignored it, trying not to get attached to the inherently cute animal.

"But...why would he give us the dog, and not let us keep it?" Mokuba asked, though he likely knew full well that Gozaburo would. That said, cruelty wasn't necessarily a logical activity. It was true that it didn't make sense to do, but Gozaburo wasn't "sensible".

"So he could get rid of it to upset you, and thereby, upset me. It's a mind game, Mokuba, and I thought you'd realize that already. If you get attached to that dog, it will only hurt you later down the road. You'd be better off giving it up to Isono to take to the kennels instead of playing with it."

Mokuba frowned, his pout now one of determination, and he slid off the bed to grab the dog.

"I want to keep it," he insisted, "I won't let him take it away."

The dog was oblivious to their discussion, and simply continued fighting excitedly for attention from both of them. Seto avoided making eye contact with it, lest it think he was starting to like it. Or worse, that he actually _did_ start liking it. That was the last thing he wanted to happen.

Eventually it did stop coming up to him, running back to Mokuba before the kid looked back at Seto one last time, frowning.

"Besides, you shouldn't fear him so much. What'll he do? If you don't ever try having fun, Nii-sama, he'll always win. You'll just be miserable."

"Stop it," warned Seto before walking over to his bed to fix the sheets. They were all tossed about and covered in dog hair, thanks to his brother, but at least the thing didn't end up having an accident on it. "I have work to do, and I don't need you preaching to me about things you don't quite understand."

"Fine, I'll be in my room."

He didn't mean to make Mokuba leave, but his ignorance was not appreciated. And the dog was distracting, and Seto knew just because it was his birthday didn't mean he didn't have things to do. There was a lot on his plate, and walking over to his desk after straightening out his bed, he began working on the designs for something he was still thinking over presenting to the directors.

He called the hardware a Duel Disk, an innovative hologram generator that utilized the Solid Illusions software he'd created years before. It had taken quite a bit of time (in Seto's mind) to figure out how to properly use the light generators on such a small device, but he was certain that his schematics would build a functional one. As it stood, the disk had to be thrown to make it spin and create enough motion to actually make the holograms seem "solid", but it was only a first draft...

And he wasn't even quite sure if the damn thing would ever work, but it was worth trying. He wanted to make something that would be better than his last design, considering what a success the holographic generator had become. It wasn't used for what he had originally planned it out for, but still... It was a success, all things considered.

"If only I could get a meeting with Mr. Crawford... As if Kaiba would ever let me. "Childish games", as he calls them...that won't ever happen."

Grumbling, he pushed the papers away and rested his elbows on the desk, pulling at his hair as he stared at his desk table top. It was a bad habit he'd started at the age of ten, and despite the pain he inflicted upon himself (if only for a second or two), it cleared his head long enough for him to relax, pulling himself up again and fixing his hair before rising from the desk and walking over to the window.

If he was very careful, he could figure out a way to contact Crawford in secret. But it would be tricky. And dangerous. Sure, Crawford would certainly show interest in the designs, but as long as Seto couldn't do anything to protect the designs, what would stop the man from stealing them for himself? He couldn't patent anything without using money from his adoptive father's bank account, and if he did, well... Gozaburo would find out.

"Master Seto?"

Turning around, he was surprised to find Isono standing there, but he didn't reveal anything on his face that made him believe he didn't know the security guard had been standing there for however long...

"Yes?"

"If you'll accompany me to the armory, I'd like to offer you some shooting lessons," Isono announced, and Seto only wished the man wasn't wearing sunglasses. His face was unexpressive, his eyes hidden behind the dark lenses. Seto was also somewhat taken aback by the sudden offer, and wondered what had instigated it, but he thought it over all the same.

It didn't seem like a bad idea. Gozaburo certainly had plenty of enemies, and that made them his enemies as well. That, and it was never a bad idea to be able to defend one's self. Isono, despite being only a little better acquainted with him than the majority of the security guards, seemed a more trustworthy sort thus far.

"I don't see why not," Seto accepted, still a little cautious, "Did my...father authorize this?"

Isono looked at him for a few minutes, unresponsive, and Seto was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable before he finally spoke again.

"Nothing happens here without his knowledge, sir," he replied at last. It seemed a rather noncommittal response, but Seto wasn't inclined to argue even if it was against Gozaburo's wishes. If the master of the house had a problem with it, he'd stop them. That was assuming he _hadn't_ told Isono to teach him to shoot.

Seto followed Isono to the armory, near the dog kennels at the back of the estate, to choose a weapon. Isono had picked out a 9mm pistol, inspecting the outside before sliding the chamber back and making sure the safety was down, before handing it over to Seto.

"There are five simple rules to handling fire arms. Can you tell me one?" He asked Seto, as the young man inspected it.

"Never point at something you don't intend to shoot," he answered, "Come on Isono, I'm not stupid."

"-Do not point at anything you don't intend to shoot, keep your finger off the trigger, point the weapon down range unless firing, keep the safety on while not firing, and treat every weapon as loaded. Remember that."

Then he picked up two rounds, stuff them into his pocket while leading Seto through the door into the indoor shooting range. It was very cold inside, and looking around, there were targets lined up in each booth, hanging there as Isono placed the gun down on a table and placed some ear plugs and phones on, instructing Seto to do the same.

"Shooting is easy," he told Seto, finally taking off his glasses while releasing the slide, putting the magazine in and smiling to himself before going over to the booth, sliding on some glasses, and picking up the gun to fire. The noise was immense, for such a small weapon, and despite Seto knowing that he was going to shoot, he still jumped. It was so damn loud, and the smell of smoke was almost immediate.

"All you have to do is line up your sights, the front and back to the target, and hold your breath as you fire. Don't jam the trigger, don't shake your hands around, lean into the weapon, and you can't miss. It's easy."

Isono motioned for Seto to come over, when he approached, he was surprised that the man placed the gun in his hands. The safety was on again, and Isono placed the protective goggles on his face before standing back, moving Seto's body into correct stance and staying well behind him before speaking to him again.

"Aim for the target, line up your sights. Don't rush anything, and you'll be fine. Shoot the last five rounds, if you can."

Seto only snorted, looking down at the gun first. His position was correct, his thumbs against one another so not to let them cross and get cut by the slide shooting back rapidly after firing. His trigger finger was light against the metal, and after pushing the safety up, he raised it up and lined up the sights, biting his lip for a second before squeezing.

The first thing he noticed was that immediately after firing the first shot, he couldn't hear. It was as if he was underwater, everything around him sounding distant and muffled. The shock from that made him feel a little like things had slowed down somehow, but rather than stop, he simply took his stance again. The gun hadn't kicked much; enough that his wrists had been jerked a little, and he had to adjust them, but he certainly wasn't injured or floored.

He fired another shot, the sound muffled to almost nothing by his shocked eardrums, but still enough to deafen him even more. He was beginning to realize that his lack of hearing was only partly from the protective earmuffs. Still, he refused to be stopped unless he was actually hurt, and he wasn't. The kick didn't get to him as much after the second shot, and by the time he'd taken a fourth he had figured out how to compensate.

Seto fired the last shot from the gun, lowered it, and looked around. His ears protecting themselves from the noise made his head swim, his balance slightly compromised. He turned, pulling the earmuffs off. He felt strangely as if he was crowded, and the rubbery material sitting on his head and squeezing his ears wasn't helping. He turned to Isono, waiting for appraisal. The unpleasant scent of smoke from the shots was heavy in the air.

"Put the gun on safe and hand it over to me."

Doing what he was told, he pushed the safety down and did so, Isono making sure to point the barrel towards Seto as they did the pass. "You never point it at someone," he told him, taking it for himself and pointing to the magazine release button, "And after firing all the rounds, you push this to empty the chamber and reload. Easy."

Then he tilted the gun on its side, pulling the slide back fast before pulling it back slightly to get it caught. He was quick, so natural in how he used the gun, and Seto stared down at it, slightly fascinated, if only because he knew the simple machinery could surely kill him if used improperly.

"You check the chamber by pushing the slide forward to make sure no round is still in. Which there isn't. If there was, it would fall out and you'd have to cup one hand to catch it. However, if you aren't careful with the slide, it will cut your hand. Sometimes if the gun won't fire, it's because the bullet is stuck in the chamber, and you have to cock the slide to get it back in correctly."

"I see... This is fairly simple."

"And it only takes one misuse of it to kill someone, Seto. Remember that."

Seto bit back the retort that killing someone with the weapon wouldn't be a "misuse" in all cases, and simply hummed. Isono seemed to notice that he was holding his tongue, but kept the observation to himself as usual. Seto followed Isono out of the shooting range and onto the grounds, and returned to the mansion When they made it back to the house, Seto was escorted all the way back to his room. He assumed it was because Gozaburo had technically confined him there until further notice.

Isono parted with him at his bedroom door. Seto stepped into the room, locking the door behind him lest he be snuck up on again, and slowly strode to the window to look out. It was habit now, since there wasn't much else to do in his room outside of working. He stared out the window, sighing. He wasn't looking forward to the dinner in his "honor", or whatever would come of the dog-something he didn't want to think about in particular. He knew it could only end with Mokuba being heartbroken, no matter what the specific outcome, and he chose not to waste time or energy contemplating it.

He eventually returned to his desk to work on his schematics more, knowing he wouldn't be able to do anything with them until he was free of Gozaburo. It almost discouraged him, but he was nothing if not determined. He knew, deep inside himself, that he'd eventually be rid of Kaiba, and finally be free to follow the path he'd started with Mokuba.

But until then, he'd have to weather Gozaburo's mind games.

There was a brief knock on his door, and it opened, Mokuba returning again with the dog in his arms. He looked rather happy, for once, and didn't place the animal down but just stood in the middle of the door entry, as if about to leave again.

"Father wants you and me downstairs in the dining room for dinner at six-o-clock sharp tonight. He says he has another birthday present for you, but he didn't say what it is, Nii-sama."

"That's fine Mokuba, I'll be down there in a few minutes. Go get changed and please figure out what to do with that dog, you can't have it with you during dinner..."

The kid stuck out his tongue before turning to leave, dog yelping as he did so. Seto didn't want his brother coming down with fur all over his clothes, and smirking a bit to himself, he really did feel bad about the dog. If there was anything he could do to keep his brother's happiness...

"No matter."

He left his bedroom and trekked through the house until he made it to the rather ostentatious dining room. Gozaburo sat at the far end of the long table, as per usual, and Seto took his seat at the opposite side. There was no food on the table, and immediately Seto wondered what Gozaburo was planning to pull on him this time. The old man didn't say anything, and neither did Seto. Instead, they sat in silence, the tension mounting until Mokuba entered (sans dog).

He seemed to notice that something was wrong when he arrived, and after he turned his confused face from Seto to Gozaburo and back again, he approached the table. Rather than taking his usual seat perpendicular to his brother, he moved the chair to his side and sat. Seto half expected Gozaburo to berate him for it, but he didn't mention it.

"Now that you're both here, I can present you with your other gift," Gozaburo announced, his leg crossed over and his hands clasped. He turned his gaze on Seto, staring at him. "Seto, now that you're fifteen years old, I believe you're prepared to actually enter the business world."

Seto simply watched, waiting for the point to be made, and he heard the dining room door open. Turning, he saw Damien pushing a cart full of money into the room. He couldn't help but gasp when he saw it, and heard Mokuba do the same beside him. It was an unbelievable amount of cash, but he knew in the back of his mind that Gozaburo could piss that much money and not care.

"The money you see there has a total value of ten million dollars," Gozaburo continued, and Seto watched as one of the board of directors-Daimon Kogoro-entered the room. "I expect you to return this loan to me with interest. In one year, you are to pay me one hundred million dollars."

Seto's eyes widened, and he turned to look at Gozaburo, stunned.

"You want me to pay you _ten times_ this amount in a _year?"_ He queried, incredulous at the idea. He barely even had any authority at Kaiba Corporation. He was quick, and he had a sense for numbers, but to generate so much money...

"Are you refusing?" Gozaburo quirked an eyebrow. "There is collateral to this loan, Seto. If you fail, I will be returning you to the orphanage at the end of the year I've granted you. And if you forfeit now, feel free to pack your bags immediately."

Seto closed his mouth, his face settling into an expression of determination. Damien seemed to have predicted this and presented him with a clipboard with a contract attached, as well as a pen.

"I accept," he replied, his voice far more certain than he was himself, "You'll get your money."

"Good," Gozaburo smirked, and Seto schooled his face into an expression of confidence, trying to look as if he was unshakable. He knew, from the look on Gozaburo's face, that the old man thought he'd won something; perhaps it was that he was successfully molding Seto into a tool, and if he didn't reach expectations, he'd be abandoned. There was no way he could lose in this deal.

"Daimon will be your advisor and assistant," Gozaburo informed him, ignoring the servants that started delivering plates from the kitchen. Damien started carting out the money, likely to take it upstairs. "Other than that, you will be left to your own resources."

Seto simply met his gaze, not giving him so much as a nod in response. His plate was in front of him now, and Mokuba was already digging into his food. More than likely, the rest of the meal would be silent, and the two of them would be forced to sit across from Gozaburo anyway. They weren't allowed to leave until he was done eating. He made no effort to hide how pleased he was with the situation, and Seto managed not to let his disdain show on his face.

He used his energy to start formulating a plan instead, fully intending to find a way to make Gozaburo come out the loser. He was not a tool to be honed, nor a puppet to be used for entertainment. And he would prove it.


	2. Chapter 2

Sitting alone at his desk working on his duel deck, Seto once again felt content. As content as he'd ever be while contemplating a plot to gain the one hundred million dollars Gozaburo required of him. It would be near impossible to achieve that sort of fortune in only a year, but it had to be done. Sitting around brooding over it would not make it happen any faster. At least his cards distracted him a little from the impending challenge that was looming over his head.

Gozaburo always talked about duel monsters and other games being pointless, but Seto ignored his opinions. They were very important. Games of war, they taught him how his opponents thought and they were ruled by logic... Chess was no better than any other battle of wits; curling his lip, Seto flipped one of his cards to reveal Battle Ox. It wasn't an overly powerful card, but it had its purpose.

"How do I make so much money in less than a year," he mused, "Legally?"

There were many ways to do it, if he decided to chance being exposed, but he knew Gozaburo would disapprove. He wouldn't want Seto turning his precious blood money dirty, as it were, and if he did anything unsavory, he'd get into trouble.

"Drugs would be too easy. And I couldn't stomach the other methods..."

Human trafficking. Selling weapons illegally. All sure fire ways of getting money, but not exactly anything he felt like doing, even if to protect his own livelihood. He didn't want to hurt anyone, not really, and the idea of people being even more miserable (or dead) because of him was too much to bear. He couldn't deal with that sort of guilt. Tossing his cards off the table in anger, he got up to stare out his window.

Mokuba was playing outside with the puppy.

At least he seemed to be happy. He was on the outside of Seto's challenge; he was very well separated from the reality of the situation, operating with the belief that he need not worry so long as his big brother was on the job. Seto appreciated his faith, but it was almost annoying that he was as oblivious and stubbornly naive as he was. Not that there was anything to be done about it without burdening Mokuba with rather cold realities.

He saw Mokuba pause in what he was doing, then pick up the dog and walk toward a maid who seemed to have been sent to fetch him. Seto was hardly surprised. Mokuba's time was under a tight schedule. He sat back at his desk to continue brainstorming, but was interrupted a short time later by a knock at his door.

"Come in," he assented, turning in his chair so he faced the door. Isono stepped into the room, bowed, and then spoke.

"I'm to take you out to shoot again, young master."

His expression was no different than any other time, but his tone and mannerisms were off; he seemed somehow strained and reluctant, and it made Seto nervous. He grew wary of Isono, wondering if perhaps the man had some ill intentions for him, but the glances he directed at him occasionally as they walked the halls of the mansion dictated something less sinister. Less sinister, but no less undesired. Seto didn't much abide pity.

When they had made it to the armory, Isono equipped Seto with a rifle and safety equipment. Rather than having him shoot at targets, however, the security guard silently led him back outside to the grounds.

"Where are we going?" Seto asked. "I doubt I'll be able to hunt anything properly."

Isono did not respond for a few seconds, though his step slowed a little and his fingers twitched. He turned his head just a little, as if looking at Seto through the corners of his sunglass-covered eyes.

"Some prey is easier than others."

Seto quirked an eyebrow at this mysterious response, but did not inquire further. The answer would likely reveal itself soon enough. Whatever was ahead was planned by Gozaburo and out of his hands anyway. He preferred the advantage of knowing _what_ was planned, but sometimes it simply wasn't possible. His "father" had the household under his control.

They were deep in the woods, far back behind the house. Seto wasn't completely sure as to where they were going, but he knew nothing much hid in the woods there. And a handgun was too small for shooting deer, or even most birds. Looking around impatiently, he wanted whatever this new "game" was to reveal itself already, but before his anxiety would nag at him anymore, Gozaburo appeared in the clearing.

The puppy was whimpering next to him, leash wrapped in the burly man's hands.

"Seto, Isono tells me you've been practicing with weapons. Have you ever shot anything live before?"

"No Father," replied Seto, arching an eyebrow just slightly, "We always practiced inside the shooting range."

"It's time you grow up, then, and make your first kill."

He wasn't sure what exactly Gozaburo meant, but before he could think it over, Isono placed the empty pistol into his hand and the rounds into the other.

"Load the magazine Seto, I thought you knew how to operate a gun," mocked Gozaburo, laughing as the dog tried pulling against his grip, "How can you expect to be a proper President of Kaiba Corporation if you can't even handle a simple .9mm pistol?"

Seto slammed the magazine into the gun, cocking back the slide to make sure it was loaded before checking to make sure the safety was on. Nothing would have given him more pleasure than turning that gun on Gozaburo himself, but that wasn't possible. Not unless he wanted to get charged for murder and watch Mokuba be placed back into the care of the government.

"-Why is that dog here?"

The puppy looked out of place. It was terrified, trying to move away as Gozaburo pulled on his leash, not letting him two feet away from his towering body. Whimpering, it chewed frantically on the nylon, hopelessly trying to rip it apart, but it was no use.

"I'd assumed you would be smart enough to figure that out for yourself," replied Gozaburo, " _This_ is your target."

"I'm going to shoot the dog?" asked Seto, his face becoming confused, "I can't do that. It's Mokuba's pet."

"Seto, what did I tell you about weakness? You still won't force it out of your system. Until you do, people will always find a way to prey upon you. Why do you think I'm such a powerful businessman? I abandoned compassion and no longer waste my time with it. Not for you. Not for your brother. If slitting both your throats would make me wealthier, I'd do it.

"So shoot the dog, boy. I won't ask you again."

"No."

He felt pity for the animal, but more importantly, he had given it to Mokuba. His brother loved it, and if he found out what had happened, Seto was afraid he'd never talk to him again. And that would break him. They had never had pets before, and his brother was so attached. The night before, they had even slept together...

"Seto, if I have to kill that pest myself, I won't be kind about it. Either kill the little beast like I ordered you to, or I'll choke the life out of it."

Seto watched Gozaburo for a moment, his expression changing from wide-eyed disbelief to a glare that would turn water to ice. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that Gozaburo would be willing to kill the dog. He'd be happy to kill the dog, especially if it hurt Seto; which, by his hesitation, it obviously would. And if he didn't kill his brother's pet, then he could only guess at what the repercussions might be. It was a choice between Mokuba's heartbreak and Gozaburo's wrath.

But perhaps he only hesitated out of weakness. After all, the dog was only a dog, and Seto had to look out for himself first. Cruel as it might be, he would have to make the call.

He turned off the safety and raised the gun, taking his stance and aiming as Isono had taught him. The dog, young and innocent as it was, could evidently detect danger and now seemed determined to escape both Gozaburo's presence and Seto's alike. Its collar was not to be escaped, however, and Seto squelched the pity that threatened to overtake him at the sight of the creature. Perhaps it was innocent, but it made no difference...

In spite of himself, and his oh-so-certain decision to kill Mokuba's pet, he hesitated a moment longer before finally detaching himself from his unruly feelings and pulling the trigger. The dog yelped sharply and was cut off, and then it was on the ground bleeding, its struggling brought to a sudden halt. Seto felt strangely dizzy, and his chest was light as if he'd dropped a weight from it. Shouldn't that be a good feeling? Then again, it was hardly a cheery situation. Somehow, though, he felt... removed. As if he could take it in his stride. And it was relieving to do so.

"Found your stones, did you?" Gozaburo snorted, letting the leash fall to the ground and reaching into his coat pocket. He likely intended to smoke one of his reeking cigars. "Do you know why I made you kill that dog, boy?"

"Because killing things gives you pleasure," answered Seto, narrowing his eyes. A flash of disgust had run through him, enough that his skin crawled from the severity. Disgust with not only Gozaburo, but with himself...

"No, although it doesn't bother me in the least. It was only a dog, and I'm trying to teach you a lesson. That dog was weak. And weakness, no matter what form or shape it takes, must be snuffed out. Mokuba's attachment to it was irrelevant. Equally irrelevant is how he'll hate you for killing it.

"And you will tell him what happened, son. When we have dinner this evening, you will tell him why his dear puppy is missing, and you will be clear as to why it had to be put down. You will inform him weakness will not be tolerated. Understand me?"

"Yes, Father."

"Good. I'll see you at dinner. Now go put that gun away, I don't want you getting any stupid ideas..."

Flicking the ashes off his cigar, Gozaburo sneered at the puppy's carcass before walking away, heading toward what Seto could only assume was the house. He didn't like how the dog just lay there, soaked in its own blood, and sighing once his stepfather was out of sight, he made sure the gun was safe before handing it to Isono.

"Where can I find a shovel?"

He didn't know what he was doing. His back hurt after a while, and he got caked in dirt; he knew he'd have to take a shower before showing his face at the dinner table. There was shit stuck under his nails, his hands felt raw, and although the sun wasn't beating down on him thanks to the trees, he felt so hot. The midday temperature hadn't broken, and wiping the sweat off his face, he stopped when there was a sizable hole in front of him.

Glancing at the dog, he figured the grave he made would just have to do. He was too tired to dig anymore, and if he kept going, his hands would blister and bleed. A puppy everyone would eventually forget about was not worth the pain. Setting the shovel down, Seto closed his eyes and opened them before picking up the bloody carcass.

It was heavy. And wet.

"I'm sorry this happened to you," mumbled Seto, "But it couldn't be avoided."

Setting it down, he stared at the animal's face. The eyes were open, and he bent down to close them, as if it were a dead person. And not breaking his gaze, he touched the fur a few times, avoiding the top where the bullet had traveled through into its brain. There the hair was all matted from brain matter, and lifting himself up, Seto went to grab his shovel.

It was easy covering the body with dirt. Using the tip, he pushed all the earth into the hole until the animal had disappeared, beating it down once it was completely filled. Now that his crime was below him and out of sight, Seto took a deep breath and felt better.

There wasn't anything that could be done about the dog now.

He made his way back to the house. It seemed like a long walk, and while the sprawling grounds certainly weren't a short distance to cross, it did feel as if time was passing differently. When he did make it inside, he made his way immediately to his room, ignoring the odd looks from the staff. He knew he was messy and disheveled, so he wasn't overly surprised when he saw his hair and clothes in his bathroom mirror. There was blood and dirt on his clothing, and some on his face. He wasn't sure exactly how it got there...

It was relieving to get under the shower water. He could feel dried sweat and dirt washing away, the musk of the outside fading quickly from his skin. He had extra time before dinner, and followed an inclination to stay longer. Somehow, even after doing a basic rinse, he still didn't quite feel clean.

When he left the shower, he promptly dried and dressed himself for dinner, and headed downstairs. Gozaburo was just sitting down at the table, a distraught-looking Mokuba across from him. Seto took his own seat and began wiping his hands with the warm towel placed in front of him. He could feel Gozaburo's eyes on him; he was responsible for telling Mokuba where his dog was. Likely, his brother had already asked their guardian what had happened to his pet.

Seto sat silently, trying to force himself to speak, but something kept his jaw shut. The very thought of delivering the news was a little hard to bear, and the act of actually following through was something he didn't look forward to. Mokuba looked so worried...

"Nii-sama?"

His thoughts were interrupted when his brother spoke. Seto looked at him, a little surprised. Mostly because he had been lost in his thoughts.

"Yes?"

"Have you...seen my dog?" Mokuba queried hesitantly, his expression concerned but his eyes shrewd. Seto knew that his brother was perceptive; it was probable that he'd noticed something off in Seto's mannerisms or response. "Father says that you were with him last."

Resisting the urge to glare at the smug bastard across the table, Seto took a deep breath, meeting his brother's eyes.

"I shot it," he stated bluntly, realizing that sugar-coating would get him nowhere. The facts remained the same. Mokuba looked disbelieving, but they knew each other well, and Seto could see in his eyes that he knew it was the truth. Not to say that he wouldn't try to deny it for the sake of his feelings.

"W-what?"

"The dog was weak," Seto continued to meet Mokuba's gaze, his eyes unblinking, "so I killed it."

"But why?" Mokuba demanded, his eyes beginning to water. He looked as heartbroken as Seto had expected, but his expression was almost angry. He still seemed baffled, as if he wasn't quite sure he had heard correctly.

"Mokuba, I know you were fond of it, but..." Seto resisted the urge to apologize. Gozaburo was watching him very closely, and he'd likely staged things this way for just that advantage. "But it was a weakness. We can't afford to harbor such things."

"It was a baby! It couldn't help being weak!" Mokuba protested, standing up from his seat. His hands were curled into fists, tears running down his cheeks as he spoke. His expression was nearly pleading, as if convincing Seto it was wrong to shoot the dog would somehow bring it back. "It would have grown into a dog, and then it would have been strong. You can't just kill something because it's weaker than you!"

Seto sighed, looking at the silverware that was at his table setting. What could he say to that? Mokuba wouldn't understand, and with Gozaburo right in the room, he could hardly explain that he hadn't had much choice in the matter.

"Perhaps not, but when it's a decision between yourself and a weaker creature, you do what you must."

He looked back at Mokuba, who appeared completely defeated. And confused. Seto could hardly blame him. His face was schooled, and his cold delivery likely disturbed his brother even more. What was he to do? Seeing Mokuba so hurt made his heart ache, but if he expressed remorse in front of Gozaburo, then he'd be failing. Fleetingly, he wished that Mokuba possessed the fortitude not to be so broken up about such things.

The room was silent for several seconds as Mokuba gaped at him.

"Really Mokuba, it wasn't even yours. Don't look at me like I did something to you. It was my gift, and the dog was an annoyance. As unpleasant as it was, it had to be done, and it was my responsibility to see it through."

He hoped his brother would become wise to what he said and just drop the argument, but instead Mokuba just said nothing at all. Picking at his food, he cried silently at the table as Gozaburo frowned at them both, pulling out another cigar before lighting it at the table to smoke.

"There are too many expensive things in this house for keeping a dog anyways," mused the man, cutting the tip before sticking it into his mouth.

Glancing at Mokuba and suddenly feeling very sick of his pitiful behavior, Seto started eating quickly. He wasn't even paying attention as the different array of sashimi went into his mouth, he was feeling so frustrated. His brother wouldn't look at him, and feeling that onset of immediate guilt made him angry. It was hard enough burying the dog, but the disapproving looks made everything worse.

"Mokuba, eat your dinner," said Seto finally, flashing him a cold glare as he brought his chopsticks to his mouth, "You won't be getting anything else if you get hungry later."

Gozaburo never allowed them snacks.

"I'm not hungry."

"You're lying."

There wasn't much he could do about that though. Not with Gozaburo watching. He had to keep himself under control, so not taking Mokuba's bait, he continued eating, slowing down some. The food was just going down his throat now without much care to the taste, and staring at his plate, Seto wished the meal would just end soon. He wanted to be excused, but Gozaburo wouldn't allow them that freedom until he was completely finished with his meal himself.

Mokuba was being a brat. Now he was just picking at everything, and Seto knew hours later he'd beg him to go steal something to eat from the kitchens. He never thought his actions through, just reacting and having no control over his emotions... How could he not have grown up since being adopted? Did he not realize that Gozaburo didn't care if he starved or not?

But what could he do? Mokuba was going to be stubborn, and once Gozaburo finally finished and excused them both from the table, Seto stormed off into his room, shutting the door. He would have locked it if he could, but since he wasn't allowed any sort of privacy, he didn't. Instead, he sat by his window and brooded, watching the street that stood far away past the main gates as the sun went down and night surrounded them.


	3. Chapter 3

Seto's original intention when taking a walk had been clearing his head with the exercise. When he'd considered turning back, though, he remembered what awaited him at home and simply continued walking in a moment of escapism. The Kaiba property was large and sprawling, connected at the back to a forest rather than the end of another piece of owned land. He wasn't sure where the Kaiba-owned part of the forest ended, but it didn't matter much to him at the moment.

Mokuba wasn't speaking to him. Perhaps understandably so, to a degree, but given the circumstances, Seto felt he was entitled some understanding, at least. Or an opportunity to further explain himself. But Mokuba wasn't old or mature enough to be more rational, so he chose to shun Seto's attempts at explaining himself instead.

He knew it shouldn't bother him as much as it did, but he couldn't do much about it. Being cooped up in his room, stewing over the situation with his brother and trying to figure out how to multiply his allotted funds by ten times was giving him pains and right now, he didn't want to deal with that.

So he went for a walk.

But the forest seemed to go on forever. Seto eventually found a river, and figuring it was as good a landmark to follow as any, he walked alongside it downstream. He wondered where it let out. Likely in some small pond in the woods, or perhaps a drain. Maybe he wouldn't find out. He'd have to go back to the mansion eventually...

Eventually would be some time later, though. He wasn't sure how long he walked, since the trees obscured the sun, but he continued until his feet were beginning to get sore. It was only then that he stopped and took in his surroundings with the intention of getting his bearings, did he notice just how far off from home he was. The air smelled odd and stale, and was heavy, as if something in it he couldn't see was settling on his skin. Either it was more humid, or he was nearing the city.

He kept walking along the river, though. If he'd made it this far, he may as well get all the way there.

It felt better being outside anyways. In the open air, he could think clearly about things, what he needed to do, especially concerning his brother. Over dinner, he'd been too short with him. His temper had gotten the best of him, and Mokuba didn't deserve that. No matter how frustrating his younger brother could become, Seto had to remain calm and understanding. He was just a child still.

Watching the water rush between the banks, he paused as a fish flopped out, splashing the water before settling back into the foam. It interested him. Seto rarely ever got to see live animals up close anymore, and as a child, his mother kept a koi fish pond in their backyard. They'd sit out there together, sticking their toes into the water as the fish nibbled on them, waiting for Seto's father to return from work. His mother would teach him outside, math equations, English, and complex vocabulary words... It all came so easy for Seto to remember. It was like a game.

But now she was dead. Turning away from the water, Seto headed towards what sounded like cars. He couldn't make it out well yet, but there was a blaring that went off suddenly, and it reminded him of downtown Domino.

However, he didn't think the mansion sat so close to the city. The drive into Domino was usually long, Seto knew that. It took at least half an hour to get there, and he hadn't been wandering alone for maybe an hour before hearing things. It couldn't be that close, and crossing his arms, he looked around several times before becoming slightly confused over his location.

Kaiba Mansion was to the north. He wouldn't get lost.

Gozaburo was in Tokyo, on business. That meant he wouldn't be back for several days, and usually that would have been something to celebrate, but his brother was giving him the silent treatment, ruining any chance at apologizing. The kid had managed to lock Seto out, and someone was sneaking meals to his room as he refused everyone else, probably one of the younger maids...

Giving out a frustrated sigh, Seto picked up a rock from the ground and threw it sharply at the water. Several fish splashed from the commotion, going all over before everything settled again, and he could hear someone yell "Oi!" before turning his head to see who it was, eyes narrowing slightly in anticipation.

"Who's there?" Demanded a boy nearby. He appeared to be about Seto's age, though he was shorter and of darker complexion. Despite looking and sounding Japanese, his hair was blond. Seto wondered if he dyed it, since his eyebrows were black...

"You scared off the fish, you prick!" The stranger yelled in frustration. From the look of things, he'd been attempting to catch something. "Who do you think you are?"

Seto wasn't accustomed to strangers addressing him in such a way. Then again, most people knew who he was upon first meeting. He didn't get out and socialize with strangers often. This particular person appeared volatile and frustrated.

"None of your business," answered Seto, picking up a stone and purposely throwing it into the water again, "I'll do as I please."

He turned to walk away, not exactly looking for any sort of confrontation. Not that he couldn't take care of himself, but it was unnecessary and he had better things to do than pick a fight with some Jap trash teenager with a bad attitude. From the sound of his voice, or rather his accent, he wasn't exactly well to do, and turning his nose up slightly from snobbery, Seto decided not to talk to him.

Besides, who dyed their hair blond? Why would anyone want to look American or European? Maybe he was slightly influenced by already being half American, thanks to his mother's side, but he didn't see the appeal. People hated racial diversity, and Gozaburo picked on him enough over his appearance. It didn't help that he picked up his mother's lazy Osakan accent as well...

Why did she have to learn Japanese from that district?

"Hey!" Yelled the stranger again. He sounded as if he was walking after Seto. More stomping, really. "You can't just show up and screw with me and walk off! I don't like assholes, and you aren't making me change my opinion."

Seto was hoping that if he continued walking and ignored him, maybe he'd turn back. Such was not the case. The other boy caught up to him fairly quickly, and Seto turned to face him when he did. Honestly, for all the shouting he was doing, he didn't look that angry. Irritated and defensive, yes. But genuinely angry or territorial...not particularly. Maybe he was just embarrassed. Or trying to prove something.

"Yeah well, I don't either. So how about you go back to your fishing, and leave me alone?" Said Seto, not even hiding the sneer that was appearing on his face, "I'm sure considering your class, or lack thereof, you might actually need whatever you can catch..."

That gave him a hard glare, but Seto didn't care. He continued walking off, trying not to trip over crap on the ground while heading back towards the mansion. Ever since leaving the orphanage, he had no desire to form relationships with people his own age. Kids were mean, and teenagers, meaner, and naturally distrusting of everyone, he found no reason to associate with anyone he didn't already know well.

Which was really only his own brother.

"What was that? What are you, some rich prick?" The boy seethed, now glaring with more heat. "You don't have any right to insult a complete stranger like that."

Seto felt a hand on his shoulder, and was yanked sharply so he spun around and faced the blond again.

"And quit walking off! I'll follow you all the way back to your house if I have to, kid, and you don't want that."

"Kid?" Responded Seto back, removing the teenager's hand before becoming slightly more aggressive and closing the space between them, "I'm probably older than you, by the looks of it. Didn't anyone teach you to respect your elders? Regardless, I'm going and if you have any sense at all, you won't follow me home. I have security."

"So you are some rich guy," the blond scoffed, "Now I _really_ don't like you. Explains why you think you can run around doing whatever you want, too."

He crossed his arms, scowling angrily. Seto raised an eyebrow. Most the people he encountered were carefully poised and schooled their faces with expert precision. This boy was like an open book, completely unguarded.

"I don't care what kind of security you have. Either tell me who you are, or I'm not going to leave you alone."

"My name is Takahashi Seto-sama," he lied, his face too stoic to betray himself, "And that's all you need to know."

And becoming impatient again, he headed back towards Gozaburo's property. The stranger did not need to know his real name, considering everyone had heard of Kaiba before. It was as commonly said as Domino, considering it controlled more of the city than the local government did. Most of the best jobs in town were employed by his adoptive father, so not wanting to make trouble for himself (the kid might try kidnapping him, if he wasn't careful), Seto gave out a blatant lie.

"So leave me alone, twerp."

"Not yet, _Takahashi,"_ Jonouchi said, the false name with a punctuated lack of honorifics, "What are you doing out here? All the rich people live uptown or on the outskirts, and you're pretty far away from both."

His expression grew a little odd-almost dark. He huffed, meeting Seto's eyes as he continued.

"You know, if you keep stomping around acting like you are, something bad might happen to you in this part of town."'

"I can handle myself just fine," Seto warned, "And I'm heading back. Unless you'd like me to disappear on you so you become lost in the woods, I suggest you do the same. I already told you who I am, so fuck off already."

The blond boy was getting on his nerves. He was rude and disrespectful, for one, and his accent was bothersome. He said everything in such a scrambled way, Seto couldn't understand the words all the time, and although Gozaburo said he sounded like a hick, the strange boy was worse. Everything sounded so hard and crass, and wrinkling his nose, Seto started walking faster actively trying to ditch him.

"Hey!" The blond called obnoxiously again. "Where are you going? Don't tell me you walked all this way just to turn around again."

His footsteps sounded as if they were getting closer very quickly. He was fast, fast enough that he was gaining on Seto after a good delay.

"You don't act like you get down here that much. It's a waste to go back to the other royalty before taking some time here."

"There's nothing here of interest to me," said Seto, "And I don't see why you'd care what I do with my time anyways. Don't you have a meal to catch?"

He really wanted to be left alone. The insults weren't working, and turning around and crossing his arms, he hoped just looking ill-mannered would make the teen go away. There was only one person who Seto could spend time without that didn't make his head begin to ache, and that person was too busy ignoring him for childish reasons...

"I've never liked the city anyways. Too full of people and it reeks."

"You get used to the smell after a while," Jonouchi quipped, "And you of all people shouldn't get huffy about it. That smell is caused by factories that rich bastards like you built. Besides, places are boring without people around. Being crowded doesn't suck as much as loneliness."

The blond had his hands clasped behind his neck, and seemed to be well recovered from his temper. He also seemed interested, strangely enough. Perhaps even a little...friendly.

"I dunno about you, though. You aren't as smart as other rich assholes I've met. You can't be, since you stopped to argue with some stranger in the middle of the fuckin' woods."

He smirked, scratching the back of his neck as Seto scowled at him. He was at the end of his rope with this obnoxiously crude person.

"You know, it gets pretty quiet and lonesome here outside the city proper. It even makes _you_ good company. I promise I won't beat your ass if you stick around, so you don't need to storm off in a huff..."

"... No."

Seto continued walking off. He didn't even bother explaining his answer, he was just becoming too fed up to listen to that guy talk as he wasted valuable time in the woods. Didn't he have a challenge to figure out? It wouldn't come to him unless he dedicated some time thinking over it, and he already felt foolish for talking to that punk for longer than what was necessary. It was a complete waste of time, and nothing good would come from talking with low class street trash.

"I have things to get done."

At least that would let the guy down easy. He didn't want to completely insult him, since for whatever reason, the blond was trying to be nice. Or give him a false sense of security so he could lure him into the city and jump him. Whichever. For all Seto knew, maybe the kid knew who he was and really did plan on kidnapping him.

"Pfft. Whatever...I get it, you're too important."

The blond waved a hand dismissively and turned, walking back to his fishing hole. He hadn't seemed overly upset (if he had been, he probably would have been more violent), but Seto still listened for his footsteps as he continued his walk.

"It's not like that. And I don't even know who you are, so you shouldn't feel all offended that I won't go walking into a city alone with you."

"Smarter than fighting in the woods," the boy shrugged, still not facing Seto, "But it doesn't matter. I doubt you live anywhere near here, and I don't envy the walk you have ahead of you."

He turned, flashing an unexpected grin of triumph.

"But since you're heading in the opposite direction of the city, I guess that means you live on the outskirts in one of those mansions, right? You're less mysterious every second, Takahashi."

"I wasn't trying to be in the first place," snorted Seto, rolling his eyes, "And you still haven't given me your name."

Not that it really mattered. It couldn't be connected to anything important, and shaking his head for even asking, Seto hurried himself, making his stride wider as he crossed through the underbrush. Thankfully he wasn't wearing that ridiculous white outfit like he usually did, sticking to just slacks and a polo shirt, like what he used to wear as a child. It wasn't as comfortable as less formal looking clothes, but he didn't like dressing cheap, and Gozaburo hated casual wear.

"But I highly doubt you'll be sharing that with me anytime soon, so how about you stop stalking me? I really do have things to do, believe it or not, and I can tell just by the way you're breathing, this walk has you winded."

"Yeah, well, if I get too tired to walk, I could always make _you_ sit down," came the grumbled retort, "But since you care so much about a commoner like me, I'll tell you that my family name is Jonouchi."

"How quaint," snickered Seto, "Well _Jonouchi_ , it was a pleasure meeting you. Now go away already."

"Glad you like it," Jonouchi replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "And you're the one who dragged out the goodbye, you know. I was done talking ages ago."

He turned and started walking back to his fishing hole again, determinedly facing forward. Seto had the feeling that he was attempting to get the last word, for some childish satisfaction. And not being baited, he didn't say anything else in response. The loser could have his last word, it wasn't like Seto was ever going to see him again.

Although there was something slightly satisfying about talking to someone his own age. He didn't have to be so formal for one, and after having spent so much time dealing with people twice his age, the change was a little... refreshing.

Maybe his adventure into the woods wasn't a complete waste after all.


	4. Chapter 4

It was already becoming dark when dinner passed silently, Mokuba still shut in his bedroom after catching a fever. He had been stupid, while Gozaburo was out. Always the dramatic one, he had escaped his bedroom while the businessman was gone and tried running off into the woods in a rainstorm, hiding up in a tree before security found him and Isono had talked him down. He refused to listen to Seto, who was visibly panicking without Gozaburo around to watch him, and it was only after some coercing did the boy climb down the tree, becoming nearly deathly ill afterwards.

Everyone was on edge over it. Of course Damien had called for a doctor and the boy was being treated, but he wasn't that old and it worried Seto. It got him riled up in ways he wished it hadn't, as he was unable to do anything while his brother cried in bed in pain, trying to concentrate on his work, but unable to.

Standing there in his bedroom with his duel monsters cards on the floor, he tried thinking up a deck. Something to entertain himself with. Gozaburo hadn't allowed him to play, even though it was an easy activity and it required a certain amount of competitive ruthlessness that his adoptive father would have found... appealing.

But it wasn't something he ever allowed Seto time to think about, except for maybe on a spare weekend when he was gone away on business. Then Isono would sneak him decks from the city and without saying anything, he'd go to some unknown competition under a false identity and try playing.

Or finding the collection of cards he was looking for. The elusive Blue Eyes White Dragon, which Seto wasn't yet able to find, but refused to give up on. One day he'd find them, all of them, he was sure of it, and thinking about that, he distracted himself from the sounds of his wailing brother next door.

He could see through his bedroom window that Gozaburo was home. He'd just stepped out of his limo, which wasn't unusual in the least. What was strange was the procession of other limousines and similarly upscale vehicles that filed into the circular driveway. Seto cursed under his breath, and pulled his cards together to hide them. Whatever was happening, Gozaburo finding his deck wouldn't be a good thing.

He got himself together in the bathroom, ensuring that he was "presentable" since Gozaburo obviously had guests and would probably try to show him off. Seto smoothed his hair, mostly out of irritation since he knew Gozaburo would probably muss it up later in some condescending "paternal" gesture.

He wasn't surprised when he heard a knock on the door, and after he called out in response, Damien entered.

"Young master," he addressed, bowing respectfully, "Kaiba-sama has commanded your presence downstairs."

How unexpected.

"I'm on my way," Seto replied, striding toward the door. It didn't seem like it could be true, but Gozaburo was quite obviously having some kind of party. He didn't have business engagements at the house, and from the directions of the noise he heard on his way through the hallway, the guests seemed to be gathering in one of the social rooms. The mansion had a ballroom. Of all the useless things...

Well, functionally useless. Gozaburo seemed fond of herding people into it. Especially if he had Seto nearby and could make him perform tricks for the audience.

When he arrived in the foyer, there were a few dozen people at least wandering around the lighted rooms on the first floor. Seto knew people were looking at him, but so long as they didn't address him, he didn't have to stop. He scanned the crowd for Gozaburo, knowing that would be the best way to figure out exactly what was going on.

But once he'd found him, Seto immediately regretted looking so throughly for him. The man seemed to have radar senses, coming over to him and grabbing his shoulder a bit too roughly than what was appropriate, hauling him into the ballroom as people watched, some unsure whether to say something or not before Gozaburo grabbed a microphone and spoke, trying to hush the crowd with his giant booming voice.

"Good evening," he began, getting the attention of those assembled, "As you know, you've all been invited here in celebration of my _son,_ Seto, who has just turned fifteen."

His sharp eyes fell on Seto as he spoke. Seto curled his lip in disdain.

"I, of course, would like to extend my _sincerest_ congratulations to him," Gozaburo continued, his eyes now on the crowd of people in the ballroom, "And though he isn't able to join us tonight, I'm sure that my younger son Mokuba would like to extend the same tidings."

Seto schooled his expression against a reaction to both the words, and the slight constriction of Gozaburo's grip on his shoulder.

"So please, everyone enjoy this evening."

There was quiet applause, and Gozaburo left the microphone, glancing at Seto through the corners of his eyes as he walked away. Seto knew better than to think he was off the hook. Gozaburo was more creative than that. He was infuriated at this point, and humiliated, but it wasn't exactly out of the norm.

If anything, he was disappearing for a drink. He was always doing that, with a crowd of people around. Or even alone. Seto didn't know how many times he found him tucked away in some hidden study when he thought the house was empty of him, in some sort of drunken stupor babbling about whatever stupid shit came to mind as Seto tried disappearing before being seen. It was alarming, the first few times, but now much older and not quite as naive, it was just something Seto came to expect.

Like how three hours later, Gozaburo was smashed. Even his guests were trying to avoid him, as he swayed around and grabbed at serving ladies, making a general ass of himself while the board laughed at him. It made Seto tighten his jaw. He didn't like watching Gozaburo look like a fool, which in turn made him look like a fool.

Walking over to him and looking at Isono in hopes he'd join, Seto tried catching Gozaburo's arm before preparing himself for the backlash he'd get while trying to take the man to bed.

"Father, it's late. And you have work tomorrow."

The look Gozaburo directed at him was strange. Not even anger or even cruel amusement as Seto might have expected. He seemed a little disoriented at first, and then an expression of recognition crossed his face.

"Where's your mother?" He asked, his voice slurred by his drunkenness. Seto blinked in surprise at the question. At first, he thought it might be some kind of trick, but Gozaburo's capacity for running circles around him was severely diminished when he drank.

"She's... she died," Seto stated, frowning, "You know this already. It's late, and I don't feel like playing this game with you."

He knew Gozaburo had no idea what he was referring to, following along confusedly once Isono took his arm. Usually he wasn't so subdued while intoxicated, but he did always seem less abusive. It was like Seto was something to be ignored while messed up, which didn't bother him in the least. It was better than the alternative.

"Isono, can you lead us to the staircase? I'll drag him up myself."

People were starting to disappear from the house, the foyer mainly empty except for a handful of guests who gathered by the steps as Seto took hold of Gozaburo's arm, hauling it over his shoulder. He was a pretty strong kid, but not very big, and pulling the older man up, he gritted his teeth each step he took, his adoptive father unhelpful the entire way.

"Master Seto, do you require any assistance?" Asked Isono, "You don't have to carry him yourself."

Seto didn't reply though. He kept going up the stairs, nearly losing Gozaburo several times due to his near dead weight, before finally reaching the top, too winded to stay stubborn as Isono took the old man instead.

"Take me to your mother," ordered the drunk, "I must see her before she gets more upset with me."

Seto ignored him, knowing that any attempt on his part to talk sense into him would be futile. He probably wouldn't remember any of this upon waking, so there wasn't much point anyway. He was immensely thankful that Isono had Gozaburo now. The older man was far stronger and had better technique carrying dead weight.

They started walking down the hallways, but Seto noticed very quickly that they were headed for the deceased Mrs. Kaiba's bedroom rather than Gozaburo's. Seto didn't argue. If the old man wanted to sleep in there tonight, it wasn't his business.

Seto opened the door so Isono could drag Gozaburo inside. Gozaburo grumbled, looking around the room confusedly before speaking.

"Where is she?" He demanded, trying and failing to stand. Isono had to stop him from tumbling to the ground. "Where's my wife?"

"She's gone, you fool," muttered Seto, quickly losing his patience over the situation he was dealt with. His brother was sick in bed, probably still crying if awake, and the idiot wanted to whine all night over his decade long dead wife. It was like something out of a mad tragedy.

"If you had any sense, you'd realize that by now."

"What-" Gozaburo seemed unsure of where Seto's voice was coming from, as if he was hearing it for the first time. Whether the words spoken had actually registered at all was yet to be seen. Gozaburo shook his head, becoming urgent again, and he turned his head as he spoke.

"Noa, what-"

He paused, his eyes trained on the full-length mirror that was propped against the wall opposite them. He seemed almost horrified as he stared at Seto's reflection, but his expression shifted quickly into a deep rage.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded, his voice turning venomous and face contorting, "You are not my son. Get out of this room now!"

Seto didn't have to be told twice. He was quick to walk off, glad that Isono was there to keep some distance between them, but he turned back to find Gozaburo on the ground stumbling, like a newborn unable to walk yet.

"You think because you look like him, you could ever be like my real son, Seto? You're a terrible replacement. Not only do you fail intellectually, you could never be as worthy as my own flesh and blood... You aren't even likeable. No one could ever want you, not even your dead parents. It's little wonder they killed themselves one by one, you were such a fucking disappointment," spat Gozaburo, who was nearly drooling on himself while lying on the floor, "You'll never replace what I've lost. Ever."

"Isono, please make sure he gets back to his own bedroom," Advised Seto, brushing off the insults before closing the door, "I don't want him getting upset when he can't remember where he was the night before."

"Yes, Master Seto."

He didn't say anything else. He simply turned on his heel and walked briskly toward the hallway where his and Mokuba's rooms were. He didn't need to waste time mulling over the bitter ravings of a drunk old man, especially one as despicable as Gozaburo.

Despite the fact that his words had been blurted so openly and displayed such personal weakness, Seto couldn't help but feel slightly scathed. He shook it off, knowing it was irrational, that Gozaburo had always felt that way-and had never really indicated anything to the contrary. Why should he have expected the old fool to say anything else, when it came down to the wire?

It was of little importance. It hardly put a damper on the plan Seto was devising, anyway.

He could hear Mokuba from the hallway. At first, he thought he shouldn't enter his brother's room, but recalling that Gozaburo was out of commission for the evening, he opened the door and walked in. How wrong was it, that he had even considered going back to his room without stopping to visit his brother? He was extremely sick.

Mokuba's sobs quieted a little when he realized he wasn't alone, though whether it was pride or fear of reprimand that inspired it, Seto couldn't be sure.

"Nii-sama?" Mokuba's voice carried across the room as Seto quietly shut the door. "Is that you?"

He sounded so weak. So terribly frail and helpless. Seto was almost angry with him for staying out in the storm, but he quelled it. What good would it do in this situation?

"It's me," he replied, keeping his voice low as he approached the bed and sat down, "How are you holding up?"

"The light hurts," Mokuba pouted. His eyes were just barely open, as if he was trying to see his older brother and shield them from the glow of his bedside lamp at the same time. Seto reached over and clicked off the lamp, resulting in almost complete darkness-the only light in the room that remained came from the crack in the curtains where the moon shone through.

"Better?" He asked, and he heard a quiet sound of assent from Mokuba. Seto sighed, resting the back of his hand on his brother's forehead. His temperature was still far higher than it should have been, though it was lower than it had been earlier.

"I really wish you hadn't hidden in that tree in the rain, Mokuba," said Seto, his voice cross between scolding and anxiety, "This wouldn't have happened if you weren't acting out."

"Nii-sama, I won't do it again."

"I know you won't."

Mokuba scooted over closer to Seto, laying his head in his lap. And not against giving some physical affection when the time for it was appropriate, Seto stroked his hair, looking down at the mess of black that had to have come from their father. He was the Japanese one, while their mother was not. Hence Seto's hair and their foreign looking eyes.

"Kaiba is gone, he passed out drunk in his bed," informed Seto, still looking down at Mokuba, "And if you had any sense, you'd go to sleep as well. You need rest, Mokuba."

"All I do is sleep," the young boy lamented, "I want to go back outside. Or something. It's so boring here."

"Get a maid to read to you or something."

"I'd rather you read to me..."

"-Mokuba, you know I can't do that."

It was pitiful, the look Seto's brother gave him from the disappointment in knowing his wish could not be accommodated, and sighing, Seto used his hand to pull back Mokuba's bangs again.

"One day it won't be like this, Mokuba. One day Kaiba will be gone and it'll just be you and I. I promise, you just have to be patient. Good things don't just happen spontaneously, and I need to make sure we have a home within the next year before figuring out a way to get rid of him... It won't be easy."

"Nii-sama, I think you could do it," said Mokuba, looking up at Seto briefly, "You're smarter than he is."

"I'd like to think I am."

Sometimes he couldn't be sure. But, he supposed, if he didn't _become_ sure, then he'd never be able to come out ahead of Gozaburo. He'd have to really use all his intellectual firepower if he wanted to succeed against him. Kaiba had years of experience, but he didn't have the same brilliance that Seto knew he himself possessed.

"We'll beat him," Seto assured Mokuba, stroking his hair gently in a repetitive gesture that would hopefully relax him to sleep, "Don't worry. I'm coming up with a plan."

One that was risky, and would require throwing his weight around. Not to mention a considerable amount of social engineering. But he could do that; he was trained for it. Gozaburo hadn't expected-or had been too arrogant to think-that he had groomed what was to be his greatest enemy. Seto knew without a doubt that nothing would change if all he did was return the loan. Then what? Gozaburo would never be satisfied with him, and would probably always harbor his vendetta. But Seto would need the resources of an established company for his plans, so there was no logic in trying to destroy Kaiba Corporation.

No, better to take it away from Gozaburo. It would be the perfect victory, wouldn't it? To destroy him utterly, and leave him powerless. Seto considered it the best solution, and fully intended to pursue it.

Mokuba's breathing was deeper and slower. Hopefully he'd be able to fall asleep, and be unconscious through the worst of the fever. It was good to see that he was improving, at least. Mokuba wasn't nearly as frail as he often seemed. Perhaps not as strong as his brother, but not hopelessly weak.

"Mokuba," he began, now that the boy was asleep, "I'm sorry about killing your dog. It wasn't something I wanted to do. And I'm sorry I couldn't protect you from Gozaburo. I've been trying so hard to shelter you from him, but there's only so much I can do... He's stronger than I am, right now. And no matter what I try to do to keep you out of his sight, it doesn't work. I told you not to get attached to that dog...

But I also knew he'd do something bad when the chance came. It was my fault for letting you get attached, and I should have told you all of this before instead of letting you run off and get sick from being caught in a storm. I'm responsible for that and I've failed you as a brother. I'm sorry."

His apology fell upon deaf ears, and frowning, Seto got up and left the bedroom, shaking his head at himself as he left for his own room to sleep alone.


	5. Chapter 5

It wasn't too long before Mokuba's fever broke and he was finally well again. Seto couldn't have been more pleased, but with Gozaburo finally being able to punish them for the younger brother's insubordination, their reunion was short lived. Once again, Mokuba was banished to the far side of the house, leaving Seto unable to even communicate with him unless one of the maids decided to pass on messages.

Even at dinner, Mokuba had to eat in the kitchen with the servants. His place at the table was given up, and sitting alone with Gozaburo for each meal was something of a torture for Seto. He had to wait sometimes for nearly an hour for the old man to finish, as he often took cigar breaks between eating and purposely let out the toxic smoke in Seto's direction.

They never spoke to each other. Seto was quick to finish eating before he waited to be excused, and the only other person who ever sometimes joined them was Damien, who tried forcing his young charge into pointless conversation.

What was happening with Mokuba was a mystery. Seto was kept busy, with Kaiba Corp and his own secret projects, he didn't have enough moments in the day to figure out a way to sneak around and see his younger brother. He had tried unsuccessfully at first to find a way through the servant's passageway over to Mokuba's bedroom, but Isono had stopped him. He wasn't stealthy enough, and after failing for the fifth time and becoming angry that Mokuba hadn't found a way to reunite them himself, Seto fell into work again.

A distraction.

But it ended when Gozaburo had another business trip to Tokyo. And to Seto's surprise, he took Mokuba along with him to "educate him on the world", which could have meant many things, but he knew the old man wasn't actually going to do anything with his brother. Maybe stick him on some servant to watch so there was no chance they'd end up speaking while he was gone.

And sitting alone in his room as the rain finally broke, Seto thought about leaving the grounds again. To see the strange boy near the river.

Assuming he was even there again. While the likelihood of that was low, it was enough motivation to make him go. Anything to get out of that house. He was essentially confined to the house unless he was at work. It was only when Gozaburo left that he had free reign over where he went. He supposed it was lucky for him that the security guards in the house didn't care in the least whether he wandered freely or not.

He left the Kaiba property the same way he had the time before, following the creek in the woods until it let out into a larger body of water on the city outskirts. It had taken a long time to get there, and Seto was a little out of breath by the time he arrived, but it seemed he hadn't wasted his time. When he looked around, a mop of blond hair caught his attention. He almost didn't believe that he'd been fortunate enough to actually encounter Jonouchi again, but he didn't question it.

He wasn't sure how to get his attention, and simply stood still at the riverbank for a few moments as he thought it through. But before he could make up his mind, Jonouchi looked up from where he was staring into the water. His fishing pole was nearby, but he seemed to have given up on the task in favor of sitting cross-legged on the rocks and watching the water.

"Hey, it's you!" He exclaimed, standing quickly and staring at Seto in disbelief. "Didn't think I'd see you down here again. Do you just hate taking the train or something? It's easier than stumbling through the woods, you know."

Seto watched as Jonouchi approached him, likely so that he wouldn't have to shout across the distance.

"The metro isn't available in my neighborhood," he replied, "And I hardly mind the exercise."

It wasn't as if he was allowed to run around and play all the time. He was barely allowed out of the house, and Gozaburo was far less concerned about physical prowess than "education". Seto could only assume that his cardio was as good as it was due to his diet and general fitness.

"Or were you just hoping to find me again?" teased the blond boy, grinning somewhat wolfishly, "I figured you'd be back eventually."

He looked genuinely pleased to see Seto again, despite his own reservations at finding the stranger. Sure, it was someone his own age to talk to, but his crude manner of speech and how he carried himself was slightly unnerving.

"I just needed a breath of fresh air," informed Seto, rolling his eyes, "And you just happened to be back here. I wasn't looking for you at all."

"Whatever, save face if you want."

Turning his back on Seto, Jonouchi left him standing near the trees and went back to his fishing rod. He had no catches in his bucket, but instead of looking downtrodden over his bad luck, his face still looked bright and cheerful, as his line began to tug.

"See!" He exclaimed, looking at Seto with sharp eyes as Seto looked back slightly surprised, "I think I finally got something!"

And pulling his line back and lifting the rod to bring up his catch, Jonouchi was pissed to find a mess of plants stuck on his lure. No fish at all.

"Ah well fuck this shit then," he said, pulling the crap off his hook, "I can get something cheap to eat near my apartment. Do you like street food at all, Takahashi?"

Seto almost didn't reply, the name wasn't recognizable until he remembered that he had lied to Jonouchi before over his identity. And sneering slightly, he made note of the lack of honorifics despite his obvious class.

"No. I don't eat garbage."

"Well, your loss then. I'm leaving, and I'm gonna get some "garbage" for dinner. Later."

Jonouchi waved his hand dismissively and started walking toward what probably led to downtown Domino. Seto blinked, surprised that he'd been so quickly abandoned, and he felt a mild internal panic as he realized Jonouchi was actually leaving. He certainly didn't want to stay in the woods by himself, and even less did he feel like going back to the mansion. And, if he had to be honest, he was hungry.

He quickly caught up to Jonouchi and then kept pace with him, scowling when he turned his head and grinned broadly at him. He'd probably expected this to happen. Seto felt distinctly as if he'd embarrassed himself.

"Looks like I'm buying for two after all," Jonouchi stated before laughing at Seto's expense.

"I'm not going to eat some crappy street food. I'm only going with you because I don't feel like walking home."

"Sure, sure. Do you like octopus?"

Seto didn't reply. They'd found a path that emerged into Domino Park, and Jonouchi energetically led the way into the city proper. He seemed extremely excited about the food he was going to get. It was interesting to see-almost cute, even. He looked like a child anticipating some kind of present.

He was reminded unpleasantly of Mokuba's face the first time he'd seen his pet dog, and grimaced. Jonouchi seemed to notice his change in mood and glanced at him with an expression of mild concern.

"You okay there? Lookin' kinda pale."

"I'm perfectly fine."

"Yeah, probably just hungry," Jonouchi grinned as the smell of deep-fried meat and fish wafted to them. Seto followed his companion's line of vision and saw a booth with a few seats at the bar, and then caught his breath a little when Jonouchi grabbed his wrist and yanked him along as he charged toward the food vendor.

Seto didn't bother protesting. He'd only been half-convinced that he could hold out to begin with, but now that he actually smelled and saw the food, he fully realized that he was definitely going to indulge. Even if it was crap, and Jonouchi would probably laugh at him.

"What are you getting?" Asked Jonouchi when they reached the booth. Seto shrugged, partly because he couldn't really decide, and partly because he wasn't even sure what was on the menu. Jonouchi rolled his eyes and ordered for both of them before sitting down.

And apparently what little money he had went a long way, because he had ordered two bowls of curry and rice with octopus and some kind of pop Seto wasn't accustomed to. Staring at the array of food, he wasn't sure what to eat, and picking with his chopsticks, he glanced at Jonouchi, who was piling in food like a starved dog before looking at his companion.

"You know, this ain't gonna kill you," he teased, "Just try it."

Seto was really hungry.

After sitting there awkwardly with his stomach madly growling, he finally took a piece of pork belly into his mouth, the flavor a tad overwhelming but still good. It wasn't like the food he was used to at home. The bold flavor, and spice, it had so much depth yet was so simple to make. And quickly filling his stomach with rice, he forgot about his companion and just focused on eating. He had, after all, missed lunch and it was well past dinner time already.

Thankfully Jonouchi was too focused on grilled octopus to tease, the stick of seafood goodness in his mouth as he bobbed it around with his tongue. He seemed delighted in playing with his food, like a dog, and finally finishing and feeling quite embarrassed with himself, Kaiba pushed away his plate and dumped his chopsticks on top of it.

"It's getting dark you know," said Jonouchi, as he ate the last of the grilled sticks, "You probably shouldn't go back in those woods now. I have an apartment close by, and it's next to this sick arcade!"

"-I can make my way back home just fine," interrupted Seto, not wanting to go missing even with Gozaburo wasn't home. He didn't know this kid, and for all he knew, the blond was trying to fix him into some sort of trap. "I'm not some kid who's scared of the dark."

"That's not what I'm talking about, prick."

Jonouchi seemed to have snapped, pulling Seto's arm when he tried walking away.

"There's all sorts of thugs who hang around there at night. And dressed as you are, they'll certainly try mugging you. So if you have any damn sense in that pretty head of yours, you'll come with me and stop being an ass over it."

Seto frowned a little at Jonouchi's ranting. While he was slightly hesitant to take his word for it, there was a high likelihood that he'd be apprehended in that part of town. Walking around downtown or in the woods at night looking like he did was probably not the best idea. And Jonouchi didn't seem like he was good at lying or being tricky at all. It almost made Seto feel like his talents were being wasted.

"If it's that important to you, then fine," he conceded reluctantly, "On the condition that we visit the arcade you mentioned."

With all his games banned at home, it would be more than interesting to be able to play something again. Even if it was simple arcade games, he'd at least be stimulated by the mental exertion and the competition of beating someone's high scores.

Jonouchi seemed pleased (and relieved) that he'd agreed to spend the night, and returned to his upbeat self in the blink of an eye. Seto was a little surprised to see it. He was far more accustomed to grudges and plans of retaliation than Jonouchi's pick-up-and-move-on attitude. It almost didn't seem real. Then again, if he was as underprivileged as he seemed, that was probably the only way he could get up in the morning.

"Sure, I'll take you there. But don't expect to beat my scores. I'm basically the best."

Seto raised an eyebrow.

"Well, we'll see about that. I'm not bad myself."

He was hustling of course. He knew his own prowess, and was more lying outright than being modest. The likelihood that Jonouchi was better than him was quite low. Jonouchi led the way to what Seto assumed was the arcade. They passed several other things as well-vending machines with very... _interesting_ products inside, a "gentleman's club", and a convenience store that had bars on the windows. Seto had never seen a store with bars on the windows before; he hadn't actually believed they existed in the modern world.

Then again, he hadn't thought that sex shops were as popular as they seemed to be either, but there were several on the way to the arcade.

Seto was walking toward the arcade when he noticed that Jonouchi was stopped outside the convenience store, looking in through the window thoughtfully. Seto returned to his side.

"What are you doing?" He asked, trying to figure out what in there was catching Jonouchi's eye. "Let's go to the arcade."

"Hold on," Jonouchi raised a hand to quiet him. Seto was taken aback by his insolence, but he didn't have time to retort before Jonouchi grinned at him. "I'm going in there first. I've got some purchases to make."

Seto unenthusiastically followed him into the dingy little shop, frowning openly to show his distaste. He didn't want to go in there, at all. There were bars on the bloody windows, he certainly didn't think it was a good place to be.

"Where are you even coming up with the money? And why waste it here?" He muttered, but Jonouchi shushed him harshly.

"Do you want the owner to get pissed? How about you stay quiet?"

Seto was about to retort by saying he didn't much care what the owner thought, but after realizing what part of town he was in, he was becoming a little more cautious. So he did as Jonouchi had asked (in the rudest way possible) and simply trailed behind him. He swept the store with his eyes out of curiosity and noticed a lack of any functional security cameras or decent alarm system. There was a convex mirror in a corner so the stone-faced store owner could keep an eye on them.

Jonouchi picked up some snacks, which was hardly surprising. It might not be a bad idea in the long run, since they might be at the arcade for hours, and Jonouchi seemed to like eating. What did surprise Seto was that the other boy grabbed cigarettes and some "glamour" magazines as well before approaching the shop counter. Seto was wondering how he intended to convince the store owner he was of an age to buy anything like that, but said nothing as Jonouchi paid.

When the owner gestured for an I.D., Jonouchi presented one. Seto could tell fairly easily that it was fake, even with how little he knew about things like that, but the shop owner didn't seem overly concerned. Jonouchi got all his purchases in a bag and the two of them left the store. Seto hadn't had (or ever expected to have) an experience like that, but he had to admit it was a little exhilarating. There was a certain sense of freedom involved that he didn't have in any part of his life with Gozaburo. It was like another world entirely.

Following behind Jonouchi again, he was pleased when they finally reached the arcade. There were many people there, mainly rough looking teenagers, but Seto wasn't too concerned over them. Taking a few bills he smuggled out of the mansion and putting them into the coin slot machine, he waited until he had a handful of coins, going over to the nearest shooter game and dumping two coins into the slot as Jonouchi watched over his shoulder.

"You know that game is really hard," he said, still carrying his paper bags from the store, "I've only gotten sixth place, and there's no way-"

But before he could finish his sentence, Seto had moved on to the next level, going from one trial to the next without too much trouble. He never missed a target, and holding onto the plastic gun like it was real, he kept going, until a small crowd of boys surrounded him and watched, gaping.

Jonouchi looked a little more than peeved when Seto finally beat the game, taking first place on the roster. He placed the initials "KAI" into the system, and walking away with a smug grin on his face, Seto moved onto the next challenge.

And the next. And the next. His little following of observers were blown away as he cleared through every single thing the arcade had to offer, except for the dance step machine that didn't interest anyone but the girls. He passed that, but won first in everything else, signing his tag on every single game top ten, beating down Jonouchi's own scores without even having to really try.

"How the hell are you even managing that?" Fuming, the blond boy looked like he wanted to beat Seto right there, his fists shaking as his face turned red, but Seto just calmly shrugged his shoulders, still wearing a pleased expression as the owner of the arcade stared at him, dumbfounded.

"I told you I was good at games."

"You're not just good, Takahashi, you're like some game king. I mean goddamn, I've never seen anyone play that well before, and you weren't even breaking a sweat..."

The other boys around them nodded their head, and despite a few disgruntled looking thugs who were sizing Seto up from a distance (which earned them dark looks from Jonouchi), no one retaliated. They all seemed at least amused, if not blown away by the stranger's unmatched skills.

"I think a celebration is in order!" Announced Jonouchi, throwing a free arm over Seto's shoulder without warning, "My dad is gone for who knows how long, and I got some shit I know will blow your mind. Come on, my apartment isn't that far away from this dump."

He guided Seto out of the building, his bag of goodies in his other hand as he looked out for his apartment building. Everything was bunched together in the city, and wrinkling his nose slightly, Seto didn't approve of the slum he was stuck in, but couldn't do much about it. The sky was already getting dark in a well lit city, and he really had no idea where he was anymore. Just somewhere in the bad side of Domino, with some strange boy with dyed hair who liked dirty magazines.

"You know this means you'll have to have me over sometime, Takahashi," said Jonouchi, grinning stupidly, "It's only polite."

"I can't have guests over," replied Seto, rolling his eyes, "And it wasn't like I wanted to come over anyways."

"Oh come on, don't be such a hard ass. My place ain't even that bad, compared to most. I keep it clean."

But once they actually reached his place, which was the size of a standard bedroom in the mansion, Seto's face fell. There was clothes all over, and empty takeout boxes on the counter. Their kitchen only had two burners on it, and the fridge was only half the size of the ones the Kaiba Mansion kept back at home.

"It's small."

"Compared to what you're used to, yes," grumbled Jonouchi, dumping his bag on the counter, "But not all of us can live like Americans. You hungry?"

He took out a bag of potato chips and a can of pop. Shaking his head no, Seto tried to find a place on the futon to sit, where there wasn't any loose clothes, while Jonouchi shrugged and got to pulling his things out.

"I get to live by myself most of the time," continued Jonouchi, "And I have a shit job at this garage where my dad used to work, when I'm not in school. Not even supposed to have a job, but what they don't know won't kill them."

"It must be nice not to have a parent around," Seto mused, considering the possibilities for his own life if he had such an opportunity. The idea of having no control was highly appealing. Jonouchi only shrugged in response, and didn't seem like he thought it was all that exciting. Seto realized he'd spoken without taking his companion's situation into account, but it seemed too late to take it back.

He followed Jonouchi to his room, which was a little less of a mess than the rest of the place; more like the clutter that might be expected of a teenage boy than a pigsty. Jonouchi flopped onto his mattress with an obvious sense of urgency and opened one of the magazines he'd bought.

"You gonna come over here?" Jonouchi asked. Seto was uncomfortable with the idea of lying on a bed looking at porn with another boy, but he sat anyway, observing the glamour shots. Jonouchi was grinning, looking quite enthusiastic about the pictures as he turned the pages and oggled the women.

"I'm pretty sure that breasts are supposed to be more...malleable," Seto noted, but Jonouchi didn't seem to hear him.

"I like this one," he pointed to a girl with lighter skin, her frame a little more slender than the others. She had real breasts, surprisingly.

"Good for you," Seto muttered. He was figuring out very quickly that he wasn't nearly as voyeuristic as his friend. The images were a little interesting, maybe, but not in the way he was sure they were intended to be. At least Jonouchi seemed to be enjoying himself. Seto decided to relax, and lay on his stomach beside the other boy so as not to reject the companionship Jonouchi was evidently trying to extend.

"I can't believe you don't like this shit," mumbled Jonouchi, as he sat on his butt cross legged, his eyes widened as he took in each page, "I mean, you have a dick don't you?" And snorting to himself at Seto's expense, he finished through the first magazine, stuffing a handful of chips into his mouth before opening another one.

This one was different, however. Not so vulgar in content, as it looked more natural in that the girls who were on it didn't have the fakeness of the ones before. Their bodies weren't made up into doll parts, and Jonouchi seemed disinterested, snubbing it and tossing the pages away. Seto had to scramble a little to grab it, looking over the front cover before realizing that Jonouchi had grabbed a artist magazine that featured nudes on the cover instead of actual porn.

"I can't believe I wasted my money on that shit," he said, getting up real quick before leaving the room.

Seto just looked at him blankly before settling his eyes down again on the people who covered the pages. They were of all races and instead of only women, there were a few nude men too. Their bodies looked just as intriguing, although not curvy and round like the women. Instead, they were muscle bound and when they flexed, their definition was easy to see. It was like the European paintings he had seen before in books, and before Jonouchi could catch him gaping at a man with his whole lower half exposed, he turned the page to a blonde woman, who laid on her back with her breasts exposed.

And she was beautiful as well. Her face was soft and features full, with lips that pouted and hair that seemed caught in her face. Her limbs were slender and her calf muscles had a pleasing sort of curve to them, like the small of her back and how her small natural looking breasts fell a tad to the wayside by gravity as her arms supported her.

"She's pretty I guess," said Jonouchi, as he sat back down, "But it all looks boring in my opinion. I mean who wants to jerk off to black and white shit?"

Seto was a little perturbed by the question. He wasn't particularly interested in "jerking off" to images of other people. It seemed like a strange thing to do, much as he knew it was fairly common. Then again, he'd never really tried it. Something about it seemed horribly embarrassing.

"Why would you want to look at pictures of women who are full of silicone?" Seto retorted. "You know that real women aren't that tacky, right?"

The excessive makeup and over-done glamour shots weren't really interesting to him. There was a difference between something being _sexy_ and it being _pornographic._ Jonouchi seemed to prefer the latter. The porno magazine had far less variety in it. Every woman in it had natural Japanese features or some horrible hair dye job to make herself look blonde. Seto did find light hair appealing visually, but not when it was so obviously fake. It was almost like looking at a cheap wig.

"And I'm not here to jerk off. That would just be strange," he muttered. His face actually felt a little hot just thinking about the possibility. He shied away from the thought; there was nothing comfortable about masturbating with a boy he barely knew while looking at tasteless pictures.

"I wasn't planning to either, weirdo," Jonouchi rolled his eyes, setting the nude photography magazine aside and taking up the porn again. Seto flipped through the discarded photos in interest. He supposed it was a kind of art, capturing the human form at its most aesthetically pleasing state.

"You're the weirdo, spending what little money you have on trash," Seto retorted, less venomously than he might have. Jonouchi was intriguing, even if he was apparently a giant pervert. He supposed there were worse things for him to spend money on than his blooming sex drive.

"Maybe you should try spending it on a better dye job."

Jonouchi turned and scowled at him, looking genuinely offended for possibly the first time since they'd met. His nose wrinkled, his nostrils flared as he narrowed his eyes and frowned. Seto raised an eyebrow, more interested and slightly amused by the expression than he was wary.

"There's nothing wrong with my hair, asshole."

"Are you kidding? You look almost like her," Seto pointed at the picture Jonouchi was looking at-an obviously Japanese woman, with light skin and dark eyebrows. Her hair was quite badly dyed golden blonde, and combined with her nearly black eyes and jet-black brows, she looked genuinely terrible in Seto's opinion. Jonouchi huffed at the insult.

"Do I look like a bimbo to you? If one of us looks like a woman, it's definitely you," he smirked as Seto's face twisted into a deep frown.

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah, look at you. You've got those big blue doe eyes. And you're too skinny, maybe if you got some muscle on you, you'd look like a man."

"You're the one dying your hair blond to look, what, less Japanese? And you're saying I'm the feminine one. As if."

Cutting the conversation completely, Seto turned around and laid on the mattress, no longer interested in conversing. He was tired of the company, of his companion's strange mannerisms and interest in rather ugly looking porno models, and already tired from walking god knew how many miles, he just wanted to get down to his underwear and sleep the exhaust off. Hopefully no one in the mansion would miss him, since Isono was even gone with Gozaburo.

"Besides, I'm only fifteen. I'm not fully grown yet, and neither are you, so you can shut it, Jonouchi."

The blond only snorted, his eyes narrowed as he tossed his dirty magazine away and stripped down to his boxers. Seto merely glanced at him as he undressed; he wasn't that masculine yet himself. He was probably what, almost fifteen, and his body was still caught between childhood and adulthood, with the frame of an older teenage boy but no muscle mass of a full grown man. And being much shorter than Seto, he didn't appear that intimidating now that he was nearly nude.

"Yeah, whatever."

He seemed somewhat offended still, but didn't fight against sharing the same bed. His back was up against Seto's, in a way that he found uncomfortable, but he was too nervous to move away from the contact. If he did, would Jonouchi make something of it? Who knew.

The mattress wasn't nearly as comfortable as the ones Seto was accustomed to having, but the company made up for it somewhat. It was more pleasant to have someone around (even if the proximity was a little uncomfortable) than to sleep alone in an oversized mattress, in an equally oversized bedroom, listening to an old house creak around him in the near-silence. Here, there was the noise of the city outside, and the sound of Jonouchi's heavy breathing to make the darkness feel less stark. Once his brain figured out that the city noise was unimportant, it became more of a background lull with Jonouchi's steady rhythm of breathing as timekeeper.

Seto blamed it on how active he'd been that day, but he found himself drifting off very easily. Despite knowing that he'd have to get home as quickly as possible the next day, he felt strangely content and accomplished, his life back at Kaiba Mansion somehow distant. More like a different reality than his day-to-day existence. Without the constant strain bearing down on him, it was infinitely easier to find rest.

So despite the heat and contact of another, Seto quickly fell asleep in the strange apartment.


	6. Chapter 6

Seto was accustomed already to waking up early in the morning, but he wasn't used to finding himself in the awkward situation of dealing with morning wood while sleeping next to another human being. Becoming immediately embarrassed, he quickly awakened and tried moving away from the contact of Jonouchi's back, who seemed still asleep, breathing heavily in his spot.

They hadn't moved since the night before. And looking over his shoulder to glance at the other boy, Seto could really see the other male's features close up in the light now that they were so close together. Like how full his mouth was, and his broken looking nose. He had a cut lip, and his face had dark eyebrows, although not quite the black he first thought from far away. More like his own natural color, but Jonouchi must have darkened them with makeup to look more intimidating...

The roots of his hair were lighter too, although not the bright yellow he tried to make himself out to be. It was interesting, and snorting, Seto figured Jonouchi wasn't fully Japanese, but he certainly wasn't not Japanese either. Just a weird looking mutt, which made sense since he was trying to hide his true appearance.

Getting up, he went looking for the restroom and found something that appeared to look like one. It was dirty, with a rack of porn next to the toilet and hair around the sink like Jonouchi hadn't tried washing the bowl after shaving. Making a face, Seto used his hands to drink some water before washing his face and looking into the mirror.

His hair was matted.

He tried to comb it out with his fingers, realizing that there wasn't a comb or brush in the bathroom (and he wasn't sure he'd use it if there was). It was frustrating; his hair wasn't as easy to make flat as he might have liked, and some strands aimed themselves hopelessly in directions that seemed completely unnatural.

After a little effort though, he deemed himself presentable and returned to Jonouchi's bedroom. He felt like he should say something before leaving, rather than just skipping off, but he wasn't sure what to say. And he wanted to avoid questioning.

Jonouchi blinked his eyes open and looked at him before he could finish making a decision. Seto watched as the other boy sat up, yawning and stretching his arms over his head.

"You're like one of those women from the old movies," he grumbled, his voice low and crackly from sleep, "Wake up lookin' just as preened as when you went to sleep."

Seto blinked, mildly offended by the comparison, but he didn't let it get to him. Jonouchi didn't miss any opportunity to be glib, evidently, even if he'd only just awakened.

"I got washed up a moment ago," he explained, "I have to get back home, and quickly."

He didn't want Jonouchi to know the level of trouble he'd be in if anyone important realized he was missing, but he made it evident that he wouldn't be dissuaded. Jonouchi scratched his messy hair momentarily, then rubbed his eyes and jumped out of bed, poking around his room to find some socks.

"I'll take you back to the woods, then," he offered. Seto couldn't believe how quickly he'd gone from barely awake to full awareness. "You shouldn't walk around here by yourself, even during the day."

"I'll take your word for it."

Before Jonouchi could refuse too, Seto walked over to him and stuffed several bills of yen into his hand, walking away just as quickly to prevent rebuttal. He knew how broke the teen was or at least appeared to be. A few thousand yen he'd gotten from "friends" at Kaiba Corp would do Jonouchi some good, especially since he bothered to get Seto dinner, and he hated owing people...

"You didn't have to do that, man," mumbled Jonouchi, but he pocketed the money before putting on his shoes, "I knew you were rich but damn."

"It's not anything, so don't make something of it."

There was a snort, but Seto rolled his eyes and straightened out his clothes. He really needed to get back home, and soon, because if Gozaburo decided to take the company jet back to Domino City that morning, he'd be screwed.

"How far away is the park from here?" He asked, giving Jonouchi a rather sharp look before opening the door to get out.

"A few blocks, we'll be there in seven minutes, I think."

Thankfully Jonouchi was right about that, they were quick to avoid trouble while getting through town, and once they reached the river, Seto quickly remembered his surroundings and took mental note of where Jonouchi lived. Just in case.

"Will I see you again?" Called out Jonouchi.

Seto was silent for a second. If he showed up again, it would be like having a friend. And that made things very complicated because relationships were not only troubling for him but dangerous.  
Gozaburo would do something if he found out about Jonouchi, and not wanting to make himself attached, Seto shook his head no.

"I highly doubt it. But I appreciate you having me over last night, and take care of yourself."

"Pfft, I always do, Richie."

Seto's only response to this new nickname was raising his eyebrow before turning and making his way back toward the mansion. He had a long walk ahead of him, and if he wanted to be back within a safe period of time, he'd have to be quick about it. Gozaburo wasn't due back for a little while, but he could always decide to surprise everyone by showing up.

When he finally made it back to the mansion grounds, he quickly walked to the house and got upstairs with minimal detection. He needed to shower and change and get his grass-stained, mussed-up clothes into the laundry before anyone noticed and decided to make something of it. If that should happen. He preferred not to take chances.

Using the servant's hallway, he was quick to get up to his room undetected, going into his own bedroom despite Gozaburo having told him not to scurry around the house like some rat. Seto didn't care though, and once he was alone in the bathroom (which was clean to his pleasure), he stripped down until he was nude and got into a tub full of hot soapy water, letting the dirt rinse from his body and relaxing again finally.

His muscles felt cramped. Probably from walking in the woods for so long, so quickly. Seto had even thought about running, but it was too hot for that and he had no water to keep from passing out.  
Finally, alone, Seto turned off his hesitations and thought about the nudes again. They were still sitting in Jonouchi's apartment, unappreciated, and he was slightly frustrated over the fact that he didn't take them for himself. How nice it would have been, to look at them all alone now that he was feeling relaxed.

And warm.

Closing his eyes, he could clearly imagine the pictures, the beautiful black and white, and how the bodies curved alluringly in the shots. Probably not even on purpose, because the photographer was trying to be artistic, but still. He could see everything, all the parts of the body, from the women's outer labia to the man's fully developed testes, and he couldn't stop from thinking about it.  
What did it even feel like, the warmth of another body? He could remember what Jonouchi felt like through his shirt, but their touch was awkward and he was a male. It didn't mean anything, and becoming slightly cross from the thought, he tried envisioning the girls again, how different each of their breasts looked, and the sizes of their hips.

He couldn't say that one body type appealed to him more than another, per se. Especially since they were posed so attractively in the magazine, and whatever flaws or strange angles that might have been were cleverly hidden. Women's bodies were appealing in how voluptuous they were, as compared to the stronger and more angular bodies of males.

He thought more about the pictures of the women, the different shapes, and tones. Even in grayscale, the varied skin tones and hair colors were obvious; everything looked natural, and he couldn't help but be stimulated by the memory of the more sensual images. There was a little bit of fetish photography as well, women posed like erotic portrait subjects in what was obviously intended to be a sexual position. Even that had a certain artistic tone to it, rather than the raw, tacky pictures that Jonouchi preferred.

Seto felt the heat rising to his cheeks, not so much from embarrassment as from his body warming up in a very specific way. He was familiar with the sensation- it was getting more and more common for him to wake up in the morning with his genitals in an uncomfortable state, but he'd never done anything but ignore it before. Now, though, with the images in his mind and the warm water making him relaxed enough to indulge himself, he tentatively started to touch himself.

The sensation was enjoyable. He found that it was even better when he had something to think about- like the nude photos. The mental stimulation made his groin feel tight, and he felt his shaft pulsing in his hand. He started to pant a little, letting out hot breaths when he exhaled. Stroking himself with his flesh under the water almost made it feel like it wasn't his own hand. He tipped his head back, his pelvis rocking back and forth instinctively. He felt his lower stomach tighten, and then a tingling feeling in his testicles as all his muscles pulled taut; images from the night before were jumbling frantically in his mind, everything from the photography to the porn mag to Jonouchi. Jonouchi, of all things. His goofy grin, his eyes sparkling when he teased, the feeling of his back as they fell asleep next to each other.

Then he climaxed, falling limp in the tub as he caught his breath. He didn't even have the will to open his eyes when he was done. He took a moment to get his rate of breathing back to normal, let his heart calm its pace, and his erection to subside. Then he blinked his eyes open and stared at the ceiling, not really seeing it. The feeling of satisfaction and relief was incredible and novel.

But he couldn't help being a little disturbed. He hadn't thought about Jonouchi on purpose; his mind had been panicked and racing around. It was just poor chance that he'd thought of Jonouchi. It still made him blush, though. The memory of Jonouchi's firm back against his own was giving him an entirely new context due to an association, to the point that he now shied away from the thought.

He also realized with some disdain that water made semen stick to everything. It was clinging to his skin and the edges of the tub. He finished washing and drained the water, rinsing thoroughly to make sure he didn't have any bodily fluids stuck to his skin.

But he tried fighting against feeling shameful over the entire act since men were supposed to do that. People had told him so, off hand, he'd just never tried it before since he was so distracted. Nor had he looked at a naked person before, outside of the kids at the orphanage and whenever he saw a nude painting. It wasn't the same. Then, it hadn't been sexual or appealing to him.

Thankfully no one interrupted him while he dressed, getting back into his usual white attire, and feeling slightly more relaxed despite the embarrassment of Jonouchi showing up in his thoughts (something to be blamed on fatigue). Glancing at the window, when he saw Gozaburo's limo drive by the house, and it didn't bother him.

Or not as much at least, as it probably should have bothered him.

Gozaburo couldn't take that away from him. If he so desired, he could easily trick Isono or Damian to take him to some bookstore and hide a bunch of nudes with the study material. They weren't that focused on what he was reading as much as they were always trying to make sure his mind was busy.

And Gozaburo never looked through his things. Not in a long while.

Grinning slightly to himself as he watched the old man come out of his car, Seto crossed his arms and sat his chin in his hand. The goofy grin was something he rarely ever allowed himself but sighing, he knew no one would see him do it.

He could do whatever he wanted while alone.

Like when he was in town with Jonouchi. No one was there to boss him around, it was such a concept he wasn't used to, and something he wanted to experience more of. The freedom to wander around and not second guess people's interactions. Jonouchi seemed quite incapable of lying, and the more he thought about it, Seto thought that maybe it wouldn't be too terrible having a friend. Even if he was inferior to him.

It could come to some use later in life anyways. Who knew what could happen, and it was a good study, in figuring out people. He was certainly more interesting than the boring adults who usually surrounded him, and when Gozaburo entered the house, he knew his thoughts would be interrupted by the man's short awaited return.

And Mokuba.

Seto hadn't expected to feel so relieved to see his brother again, but there it was. As he watched Mokuba jump out of the limo and make a dash for the house, he couldn't help but feel as if they hadn't seen each other in a long time. They hadn't, in a way, he supposed. Mokuba had been banned from seeing him for a while now. Seto briskly walked toward the foyer, knowing that Mokuba was probably coming his way and hoping to meet him along the way. Maybe it would only be a few moments, but it was more than they'd had for some time.

He saw Mokuba ascending the stairs to the second floor, and when they made eye contact, he grinned and ran toward him, colliding with him and holding on tightly. Seto returned the embrace (less crushing though he was) for a few seconds; then he heard the front door open, and he shooed Mokuba off, trying to get him out of sight of Gozaburo before he saw them breaking his new regulation.

He composed himself, ensuring that his posture was correct and his clothes were presentable before striding to the foyer stairs, descending as Gozaburo walked through the door. When their eyes met, he already knew something was off-Gozaburo had that spark deep in his eyes that meant he was planning to play some kind of mind game. Seto already found that he was having to will himself to stay quiet. Every manner of rebellious actions and thoughts ran through his mind, but he quelled those daydreams. If he wanted to survive long enough to take the company, he'd have to put up with Gozaburo's bullshit.

It wouldn't be too much longer.

"Welcome back," Seto greeted, knowing that not speaking first would probably earn him some small punishment. Gozaburo snorted amusedly, removing his cigar from his mouth to blow smoke.

"Don't you look excited to see me," he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "But your presence saves me the trouble of having you fetched. I have something to discuss with you."

Now that the ice was broken, Seto didn't speak again. He waited for Gozaburo to take his place at his desk, crossing his leg as he smoked his cigar and watched Seto stand there in front of him. Maybe it gave him some sort of power trip, having his stepson standing there like some soldier put at attention, but instead of just waiting forever to find out what the old man had to say, Seto looked out the window.

"Daydreaming again? I thought you grew away from that."

"I am merely admiring the weather we've been having, Father."

"You're a terrible liar, Seto... I've been thinking about Mokuba," Gozaburo continued, sticking the cigar into the side of his mouth, making it bob back and forth, "He's been nothing but a bother. Surely, you've realized what a burden he is to you."

"He's my brother," answered Seto back rather stubbornly, although his eyes betrayed no emotion, "And it's my responsibility to care for him regardless of how burdensome he can be at times..."

"Do you think that kind of attitude will make you successful in life?" Gozaburo scoffed. "I assumed you'd learned better. Fool sentiments will do nothing but hold you back in every part of your life."

"I'd rather be held back momentarily than be alone and die miserable," replied Seto, "Being rich doesn't mean dying wealthy."

He couldn't help but smirk from that logic, unable to stop himself as Gozaburo sat there fuming. Everyone knew the master was going to die alone, and probably bitter. No one would care about him once he'd passed, and he'd be lucky if anyone decided to throw him a service. Or make sure his body went through the rites. Seto certainly wasn't going to worry himself with that when the day came.

"You have more to learn than you think, boy," Gozaburo growled, standing, "There are two things that have meaning in this world, and they are survival and power. You have no sense for either, and until you find some, you'll remain a failure."

Seto recalled briefly the night Gozaburo had ranted drunkenly at him, bitter and enraged, and it made his chest burn. Even though the words stung, the memory kept him fully aware that Gozaburo was weak. And his beliefs only made him more so; a true coward was unable to take the risk of having a heart. Of indulging in "sentiment".

"What power did you have then, dear Father, when you stumbled into your dead wife's bedroom the night before? Was that some sort of sense I haven't acquired yet too? Or are you not as mighty as you think you are?"

Gozaburo froze, his eyes cold. The pupils were narrowed, and at first, Seto thought he might be on the verge of spastic rage; then the old man snorted as if amused, straightened, and took his seat again as he pulled his cigar case from his coat.

"If you don't learn to sever ties, you'll always fall from grace," he said while staring at Seto, smoke escaping his mouth and nostrils as he spoke like it might from some great evil dragon at the end of a storybook. "The fact remains that no one can be trusted. There isn't anyone alive who won't eventually betray you, Seto. The only variable is how much you waste on them before they do."

"Mokuba is just a child," replied Seto, his face becoming cross. He was used to the anger, and he relied on it to win the upper hand, but Gozaburo threw him for a loop. Him laughing over his drunkenness was not something he planned on. "He's not capable of hurting anyone."

"Have I taught you to be so short-sighted?" Gozaburo asked. It was infuriating, the way his eyes seemed to smirk smugly when he asked questions like that. Like he knew that, even if Seto knew he was wrong, a little doubt would try to worm into his mind. "Do you think he'll be a child forever, Seto? He's intelligent-a good rival for you if he ever felt the inspiration to be. Maybe even a replacement."

"You're bluffing."

If Gozaburo wanted that, he would have groomed Mokuba for that position long ago. Sure, he was smart, but not as strong as Seto was, and the way he cried and acted out was example enough to show that he could not be like his brother. Mokuba couldn't stomach it, and everyone knew that. In Gozaburo's past opinion, his intellect was a waste.

"My brother is nothing to you but something to hang over my head, and we both know that. If it wasn't for him, I would have left this place years ago. Let the authorities know what kind of monster you truly are, but we both know I can't do that..."

At least not yet.

"You wouldn't dare do anything to my brother."

Gozaburo only smirked and chuckled quietly, tapping the end of his cigar against the ashtray on his desk.

"Always the valiant defender," he muttered, his tone mocking, "Tell me, if you're so sure that your brother would never betray you, then why are you so threatened? The mere thought that I might replace you with him has you on edge.

You've thought about it before, haven't you?"

Seto couldn't deny that his jaw was tense. He was close to grinding his teeth, and he couldn't hide his disdain any longer now that he was all emotional. Usually, he didn't allow himself to get that upset over anything Gozaburo said, not since he was a child, but hearing such a threat... a consideration...

"No," he lied, "It never once crossed my mind."

"I'm sure. You love your brother far too much to think he could do that to you," Gozaburo leaned back in his chair, not bothering to hide his triumphant smirk. He knew he'd managed to get under Seto's skin and plant a veritable mental time bomb in his equilibrium. Seto cursed internally, knowing that Gozaburo had won this round if only because he'd elicited a reaction.

"I've nothing else to discuss with you," Gozaburo waved his hand dismissively and started shuffling through some papers on his desk, "You may go now."

Seto merely bowed before leaving, bolting out into the hall once the door was closed. It was strange, that Gozaburo hadn't just lost it on him like times before, Seto was ready for that. His behavior then was at least predictable, and he didn't care about being hit once or twice. A slap across the face was nothing, he could deal with that, but the sense of doubt Gozaburo was now delivering him...

He was preoccupied with his thoughts as he returned swiftly to his room. He barely noticed the people he passed on the way. Not that he and the servants ever paid each other much attention, to begin with. He struggled with the conversation he'd had with Gozaburo, mainly because just a little bit of it was true. He was fully aware that Mokuba could be a threat in the right context, and it had crossed his mind more than once.

He knew that a little truth could cloak the biggest lies, though. It was obvious to him that Gozaburo was only trying to undermine his confidence. Make him doubt the only person he could really trust. The unsettling thing was that it worked in some small way, regardless of how reluctant he was to allow it. It wasn't until he'd sat staring out his bedroom window for quite some time that he finally quelled his doubt.

Seto was sick and tired of Gozaburo's games. He was sick of being trapped in Kaiba Mansion, sick of the control, sick of the constant condescension. His mind returned frequently to the day before, when he'd been with Jonouchi. He craved that freedom-choosing his own actions was a novelty, and he knew it shouldn't be. It was only unusual because of Gozaburo.  
Everything really would be better if he wasn't around, wouldn't it?

He was almost afraid to harbor such a thought, partly because it was so tantalizing and he knew himself enough to realize the lengths he would go to in order to achieve that goal. But it was the truth. Gozaburo was a problem. He always would be, so long as he had any influence at all with which to cause turmoil in Seto's life. And Mokuba's. He realized with growing horror that, even if he took over Kaiba Corporation and found a way to get Gozaburo out of the picture, Mokuba would still be a minor. A minor not old enough to legally make the decision to stay with his sibling instead of a parent.  
Although he didn't actually have a parent. Not truly. Would it be possible to discredit Gozaburo if he decided to try something once Seto was successful? He wasn't sure, and the thought of losing his brother in retaliation was almost more disturbing than the fact that, when he thought about it before passing out in his bed, not having Mokuba to begin with would have made things much easier...

Although he didn't actually have a parent. Not truly. Would it be possible to discredit Gozaburo if he decided to try something once Seto was successful? He wasn't sure, and the thought of losing his brother in retaliation was almost more disturbing than the fact that, when he thought about it before passing out in his bed, not having Mokuba to begin with would have made things much easier...  
Much simpler.


	7. Chapter 7

Seto couldn't say he was displeased at Gozaburo forcing him to return in Kaiba Corp again to work. At least there, away from him and the board and everyone who liked bothering him with their meaningless talk, he could work on his project alone. More importantly, speak to the right people about his plan to take over.

It was like Gozaburo was almost making it easy. Shuffling his duel monster cards, Seto thought over the different people and the executives who ran those departments and how he'd convince them to get on his side. People were essentially very weak minded, he knew that. Most could be bullied or bought out, but since he didn't have that kind of means to get what he wanted, Seto knew he'd have to use another more difficult tactic.

His mind.

He'd have to convince them through logical persuasion that the old chief executive was an unfit leader. It would be difficult to do, since Gozaburo had been in-charge since the mid-sixties, and he wasn't experienced in dealing with unrest around the corporation. People had tried overtaking the company from under him before, the mobsters and politicians in particular, but failed.

They didn't know him like Seto knew Gozaburo. His reason for doing everything, they thought it was all about money, but it wasn't. Gozaburo's desire for Kaiba Corporation ran deeper than just pure selfishness.

Which Seto planned to exploit. Gozaburo was already an unpopular boss, and he often threw people under the bus when they displeased him. If he could just convince the right people to back him up and that their company was failing under his leadership, well... it would be a done deal.

Besides, everyone knew weapons manufacturing was unpopular. Especially in a country that balked from conflict. People avoided Domino City because of the ties, and Kaiba Corporation attracted a lot of mafia types that frequented around Gozaburo, for business. Seto was wise enough to know that Gozaburo was just trying to buy them off, and maybe scare them, but still.

He could handle that aspect of his takeover too. In time.

While it wasn't his intention, he continued to think about the photographs he'd seen at Jonouchi's apartment. By the end of the day, he'd constructed a plan to get to the local library and find more materials on the subject. Photography and art books were probably abundant enough, and less conspicuous than magazines.

Unfortunately, he was unable to go by himself. Isono would have to accompany him, allegedly by Gozaburo's will. It made sense. Gozaburo was well hated, and being his son could make him a target to some. Still, it made things slightly awkward. Isono accompanied him to the library in a cab, silent as usual, but ever watchful.

Just as long as he didn't hang over Seto's shoulder while looking through the shelves of books, it wouldn't be that big of a deal. Sure, the guard was a bit overbearing at times, but he'd be easy enough to lose once they were in the building, and if he needed to, he could always order Isono to stay at a distance, so he couldn't see just what exactly Seto was looking at.

He didn't need the older man figuring him out. It was embarrassing enough that Seto even looked at the pictures and got aroused by them, the men included. If Isono noticed his fascination, then what would happen?

Not good things, surely.

So once the cab stopped and they were right in front of the library, Isono opened the door for Seto, who gave him an annoyed look before walking out. Sure, the man was just doing his job and making sure the perimeter was safe, but his constant vigilance was grating on Seto's nerves...

There was nothing to be done about it. Hopefully, Isono wouldn't trail him across the library as he went searching for the books he needed, or things would get strained very quickly. It seemed he was in luck today since Isono chose a spot with a good view of the aisles that Seto was searching and stood there. Seto was able to browse without feeling too watched and found the art and photography books soon enough.

He crouched to flip through them briefly after picking them off the shelves to check the contents. He wanted something similar to the magazine. Somehow, the photography books with full-color images weren't quite as appealing. The poses were more candid than artistic or even erotic, despite all the models being nude. He left them alone and pulled out the black-and-white ones he had found, discovering soon enough that it seemed more of a trend for grayscale images to be erotic.

He had a stack of a few photography books fairly quickly and started scanning for another when he ran across one that was specifically erotic art and photography. He pulled it from the shelf, intrigued, and was pleased to find that it was exactly what he was looking for. All the models and portraits were nude, some with their genitals covered tastefully. Any photographs were grayscale, and all the poses were more erotic than lewd.

Looking up, he saw that he'd crossed out of the art books and was quickly approaching the love and sexuality section. He hadn't originally intended to look there for anything, but while he was there, he may as well...

There were a few books on sex and sexuality, and dozens of tips for improving the act itself (which he flipped through briefly, if only for curiosity). Some of the "tips" were strange to him. Like suggesting to women that they "slip a finger into his anus". Seto felt personally that he wouldn't like that at all if he was in the middle of sex with a woman. And he was pretty sure that wasn't common practice, to begin with.

He finally ran across books that were evidently intended for sexual purposes. The Kama Sutra, of course, but also books that were photographic pornography, essentially. While it wasn't full of terrible make-up jobs and discomforting poses and expressions like Jonouchi's magazine, it was certainly supposed to be more... stimulating.

So he added one of those to his stack, too. He frowned a little bit as he realized there were a surprising number of male models in the books he'd chosen, but it wasn't as if they couldn't be ignored. They were more of an irritating nick in the landscape than anything. That said, he had to admit that the images made him a little uncomfortable. He blamed it on his lack of experience with pornography.

He realized on his way to the checkout that having a stack of books full of pictures of naked people would probably get Isono's attention, and he quickly perused the aisles for books on other subjects. Chemistry, physics, quantum mechanics-things that he'd be expected to use for more scholarly pursuits. Hopefully, they'd make the other books look as if they were for research.

When he approached the self check-out with Isono trailing behind him, he took note of his expression. Isono was watching the books as Seto scanned them, but didn't comment or react any more than he did to anything. His eyebrow twitched a little when the sex book crossed the scanner, but it could have been nothing for all the reaction he made otherwise.

Seto rather smugly left the library with his stack of books, satisfied in the knowledge that he'd managed to get his sex books out of the place without raising suspicion about his intentions. Isono said nothing about it and acted normal the whole way back to the mansion, so whatever nervousness Seto had felt before subsided into anticipation of getting to his room.

Once free of eyes there, he dumped the scholarly books on his desk, to be forgotten, and went through the sexual one. It immediately caught his eye, because the cover was blank and just said "Sex" in white print over black, but as soon as he opened the front page, his eyes were overwhelmed with erotic images.

There were a man and woman together, and it was something he hadn't exactly seen or really heard about before. The woman was laying on her back, legs spread open while the man's mouth was against her, the thighs pressing against his head while it appeared like she was moaning. Looking a bit closer, Seto squinted his eyes to try to see just what she was doing, but it wasn't until he looked at the paragraphs of text, did it become clearer.

Oral sex. It wasn't something anyone ever really discussed to him, or at least not about giving it to girls. He didn't even know that was possible. Sure, Seto understood the basics of sex and how the act was done, but the pleasure involved, for a woman, he wasn't quite sure of. No one spoke of it much, even at business gatherings, and turning to the next page, he was just as shocked to find the woman suddenly doing it to the man.

She had her partner's entire head inside her mouth, eyes closed and lashes curled against her face. For something Seto figured would be very uncomfortable, her face was relaxed, the man's hand in her hair and he looked rather euphoric, sitting up against the bed as his mate went down on him.

Reading the text, Seto wondered about just how good it felt, compared to what he'd done to himself the day before. Was it better, a wet mouth instead of a warm hand? He wouldn't get the chance to find out in probably a long time, but the idea still interested him.

Turning to the next page, he found photos of different missionary sex positions, all with the woman on her back. They looked pretty basic, comfortable, and not so strange as to make anyone feel awkward while doing it that way. According to the book, missionary was best for new couples who are trying to feel each other out before trying new, more "potentially uncomfortable" positions.

The book was chock full of "helpful" information, in fact. The further he went, the more varied the positions were. Each new introduction was followed by a paragraph on how to properly execute it and the pros and cons. "Doggy" was supposed to be the most stimulating on both ends, and the book mentioned that the same applied "even with same-sex couples". The phrase threw him off a little, and he shied away from the uncomfortable thought before moving on.

It seemed that the author was correct about the position because the women in the pictures seemed all the more enthralled with it. There were numerous types of sex either depicted or mentioned by the time he reached the middle of the thing. Oral on both sexes, common positions like missionary, doggy, both types of cowgirl, and the "piledriver". The stirring quality of the images was offset by the technical descriptions in the paragraphs that, to his surprise, were actually very informative.

It wasn't until he passed the halfway mark and was on his way to the end that stranger things were mentioned. Like anal sex. It was a strange idea to him, enough that he wrinkled his nose in slight disgust at the very concept. He quickly bypassed the pictures on the topic, especially after he realized that some of them were of two men together rather than a man and woman. It was too awkward for his liking.

It took him some time to figure out, but the back of the book seemed dedicated to same-sex information and images. He balked when he realized that every picture of oral sex was of two men together, and was even more taken aback when it still made him feel an odd stirring. He blamed it on having possibly developed some kind of oral fixation, which at least allowed him to finish flipping through the pages without shying away, but he was still flustered. The tight feeling in his groin wasn't an issue in the heterosexual parts of the book, but now a sense of mild shame accompanied it, and he disliked that immensely.

He sighed and closed the book. At least he knew what sections to avoid, now. Somehow, though, the depictions of male-on-male sexual activity continued to plague his mind as he changed out of his work clothes. He hated it, but he felt a strange curiosity about the taboo activity. He brushed it off, assuming it was just natural sexual intrigue, but he still felt warm in the face about it. He reasoned that it was just teen hormones, and something all people went through. It couldn't be anything to worry about, and after sticking himself into a cold shower, he felt fine about it.

But once he went to bed and tried falling asleep, his brain kept shooting images of what he'd looked at. The women lying on their stomachs, hips pulled up while being thrusted into by their male partner from behind. Images of lesbians, who were giving each other oral sex at the same time, and he could remember trying to imagine that until it was shown with men. Two engorged erections, in the men's mouths, being stimulated by wet tongues and a warm constricting throat...

Groaning into a pillow, Seto tried cutting the image off by opening his eyes into the darkness. Looking around his bed, he didn't think his thoughts would bother him anymore, but when he closed his eyes again and felt his body relax, he heard a low moan.

And everything felt warm. There was a tightness in his groin again, and he almost thought he was having an erection again in his sleep until he opened his eyes and found himself on top of a warm body. Getting up slightly, he placed his hands on the hips of the figure, and he couldn't stop himself from rocking into them, staring down confused yet aroused at a bareback that was shining from sweat, before the person pulled back their hair and he finally saw a face.

A woman's face. Her eyes were half-lidded, brown in color from what he could see in the light, and he wanted to touch her, but he was too shocked to. She was speaking to him, but he couldn't exactly hear her, it was like everything was muted except for his grunts, and he tried saying something, anything back, but his voice was gone.

Only his body kept going regardless of what he thought or wanted to do. If anything, his hand reached out and took a firm grasp of her blond hair before he pulled in closer to her, thrusting in fast, his erection sliding through several times into slick heat that he'd never felt before. It was new, and he wanted to just let it all go right there when the head turned back again.

Seto had closed his eyes for a moment, biting his lip hard to keep from losing it, but when he opened them again, he was looking at a muscular back. It wasn't feminine at all, with the wide shoulders and narrow hips, and when his eyes trailed up and saw the face, it was familiar. Blond hair. Brown eyes.

"I know you can do harder than that, Richie."

He wasn't supposed to talk, and suddenly Seto found himself awake in his bed, covered from the waist down in fluids he could only assume was his own. And cursing himself, he got out of bed and grabbed his sheets, wanting to bang his head into a wall before going back under the blanket.

Hopefully, he wouldn't have the same dream. The images kept running through his head, partly because he was only half-awake. Even though he'd cleaned it off, he still felt as if he still had his own semen all over his lower groin, and the slick feeling of penetration he'd imagined in the dream still made him tingle. The turn the dream had taken was a little disturbing, to the point that he couldn't even fall asleep again until he'd awakened completely and passed out from fatigue.

Fortunately, he didn't have another dream. Whatever conspiring his body's needs and his subconscious had done against him didn't recur. Not that the relief wasn't welcome, but the last thing he wanted from a sex dream was to have it ruined by the unexpected presence of a man. And a mouthy one, at that.

When he awakened some hours later, he was surprised to find that no one had been sent to fetch him. It was a welcome reprieve, but the only explanation was that Gozaburo was plotting, or out of town. Hopefully the latter. The very idea that the old man was out of the house again put a little bounce in Seto's step as he got showered, brushed up and dressed for breakfast.

As he'd hoped, Gozaburo wasn't at the table, and after listening in a little on the maids, he discovered that his adoptive parent was out of town and wouldn't be returning that day. That meant that he'd have far less strained free time. He wouldn't have to actively avoid getting in Gozaburo's line of vision or dread having a servant seek him out on Kaiba's behalf.

He spent the first part of the morning in his room, actually reading the science books he'd checked out in the interest of clearing his head. After he knew he didn't have Gozaburo to contend with, his mind seemed perfectly content to return to the night before. The images he'd seen in the book and in his dream, the odd turn that said dream had taken...

So he was reading about quantum mechanics and overly complex ideas like inter-dimensional transportation. It still did little to clear his head, and he felt almost constricted by his uncomfortable thoughts and the stagnant air in his house. After spending some time struggling with the conditions, he grabbed the physics tome he'd picked up at the library and decided he'd go outside. The exercise and fresh air would be good for him. Right?

The exercise as he beelined for the only secluded part of the grounds did help a little. He concentrated on the after-rain smells of grass and plants and put his focus on his goal of reaching the woods by the property's back fence. He knew there was a stone bench there, away from the motion sensors and the guards' patrols. He'd be well out of sight.

He popped the book open on his lap and started observing the diagrams of particles, theories on the ones that existed beyond human detection and how they might be discovered. It was all very dry, but nonetheless interesting. And it diverted his mind from uncomfortable lewd thoughts.

Seto was rather immersed in the book, in fact, when some rustling sounds caught his attention. He looked up briefly to see if there was a guard about, and seeing that there was none, he returned to his reading. A few minutes passed, and then he was interrupted again. This time by the sound of a familiar voice.

"Hey, Richie!"

There was no way it could be him...


	8. Chapter 8

Seto stood, his textbook discarded on the bench. He felt like he must be having a dream. It was absolutely insane for him to have run into Jonouchi at his house, of all places. How had he found him? Had he figured out who he was? Heaven forbid.

He approached the fence line. Jonouchi was gripping the bars, looking surprisingly happy to see him. Seto waited until he was in closer range before speaking. He didn't want their voices to carry to the ears of passing staff, should there be any.

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

His tone sounded accusing to his own ears, though he was more shocked by Jonouchi's presence than angry. And slightly apprehensive. Upon closer inspection, he could see that Jonouchi's clothes were roughed up more than usual. They'd always been a bit loose-fitting and wrinkled, but now they looked as if they'd been violently messed with. There were a couple spots on Jonouchi's face that were darker than his skin complexion, which at first had just seemed like smears of dirt. Close up, they looked more like the purple spots that formed bruises. His shirt had marks on it like scuffing from dirt and asphalt rubbing.

"...And what happened to you?"

He'd probably been in a fight. Or attacked, given Jonouchi's shitty neighborhood. Still, that didn't explain how he'd ended up here, at Kaiba Mansion, so far away from the city. If he'd been running to evade someone, why not go to uptown Domino where the police were more abundant? Certainly, running through the woods for miles so he could be somewhere even less conspicuous didn't seem like the best idea when evading attackers.

"Nothing," Jonouchi seemingly lied, his expression sobered and everything in his body language giving off the desire to be defensive. Obviously, he wasn't in the mood to discuss it. "I ran into some trouble. No big deal."

"Sure. And why are you here?" Seto asked, "This place is hardly on your way home."

He could see gears turning in Jonouchi's head. Seto was used to reading far more reserved individuals, and even with them, he could usually see a lie coming from a mile away. Jonouchi was excessively obvious, his face shifting as he thought.

"I was in the woods, and figured I'd come by to say hello," he grinned. Seto frowned.

"How did you know where I live?"

"Followed you here last time I saw you," Jonouchi shrugged.

He was being deliberately nonchalant, no doubt because Seto made his disdain obvious. Jonouchi still must not have realized what family he belonged to. If he had, even Jonuochi would have wised up enough not to tread near Kaiba Mansion. "I can see your house from here, you know. Shit, I could tell you were rich, but this is a whole other level."

He seemed excited. Seto had been too when he'd first seen the house. Most people probably were. Until their first time inside. The enthusiasm usually depleted after that.

"It's fine," Seto responded noncommittally to Jonouchi's bright-eyed gushing. Jonouchi seemed awed and almost offended that he was so flippant about it.

"Fine? No, an apartment in central is fine. That place is something out of a movie," he insisted, "You seriously live there? You're one lucky bastard..."

Seto could feel his mouth twitching. He felt an odd combination of dry humor and a burning desire to tell Jonouchi he was dead wrong. He kept his mouth shut, however. He'd seen where Jonouchi lived. From his perspective, having a place like Kaiba Mansion to live in was probably beyond incredible. He obviously didn't know that Kaiba Gozaburo lived there, and Seto didn't want him to know. Considering the effect that Kaiba Corporation had in the city, he doubted knowing would make Jonouchi like him anymore.

"Do you realize you're bleeding?" Seto's eyes darted to Jonouchi's shirt sleeve, which had a slowly-growing red stain on it. Whatever injury he had there was only just starting to bleed and the fabric of Jonouchi's shirt stuck to it whenever he stayed still for more than a few seconds at a time. His body must have still been in shock before, pumping adrenaline. That meant his oh-so-unimportant scuffle was recent.

"Hmm?" Jonouchi gazed at his arm almost dazedly and then snorted. "You call that bleeding? It's a little scrape, I got a million of 'em. It'll scab over soon enough."

Jonouchi didn't even look like he was putting on an act. How often did he get his ass handed to him, exactly? He didn't seem overly concerned with it, even though the bruises on his face were now fully visible and Seto could see a little bit of blood rising from a smudge above his eye. If he observed closely enough, he could see the cut. It was mostly obscured by Jonouchi's hair, which was matted and clinging to his face.

"Don't you know anything about first aid?" Seto asked, regarding Jonouchi accusingly. Why had he come here? Why not go to a hospital, if he'd had his ass kicked? If he had any sense, that was where he'd be. "You look like someone grabbed your face and used it as a punching bag. Did you even go to a clinic?"

"Are you serious?" Jonouchi looked almost amused by the suggestion. "I haven't broken shit. I don't even have a cut worth mentioning, why would I go to a hospital or clinic?"

"You could be concussed."

Jonouchi laughed. Seto scowled at him, irritated by how hilarious he found logic to be. No one should look like that and not get some kind of care. He could have at least got some soap and water or disinfectant on the cuts and scrapes, rather than tripping through the woods to find some rich kid he barely knew.

"I know what a concussion feels like, and I'm fine. Thanks anyway, mom."

Seto sneered unpleasantly, but Jonouchi's only response was a broad grin. He was obviously self-satisfied with getting this response. He was such an idiot. How had he survived this long on his own, again?

"You're ridiculous. Just wait here. I'll be back," Seto turned and started back toward the house, grabbing his textbook on the way. Jonouchi seemed shocked and began to call after him, but then he fell silent. Seto didn't look back. Jonouchi would be there when he returned, or he wouldn't. The latter would be his own loss.

He needed to get some kind of first aid, at least, before Jonouchi got infected. He didn't exactly live in a clean place, and after traipsing through the woods, getting dirt in his wounds, he should at least feel some stinging. Seto could respect that he took his hits like a man, but to be so absolutely indifferent...

It still seemed surreal that Jonouchi was there at all. It was almost as if thinking about him had somehow conjured him. Seto's dream was still fresh in his mind, and he was trying not to let the memory resurface. Not while he had to interact with Jonouchi. It was too awkward, and he didn't want to waste energy getting anxious over something so meaningless.

No one stopped him or questioned him about the first-aid kit he was carrying through the house as he headed back outside. The staff knew well enough to mind their own business and keep their mouths shut.

There was fortunately still no security in sight when Seto returned to the property line, this time exiting to the other side of the fence. Jonouchi was where he'd left him earlier, shuffling his shoes around in the loose dirt to amuse himself. He had his hands in his pockets and was staring at his own shoe so intently that he seemed like he must have something important on his mind.

Then he caught sight of Seto, and all that disappeared into his usual bright demeanor. He waved obnoxiously, grinning, as Seto approached.

"I was starting to think you were just ditching me," was the first thing he said, "But I guess that house is pretty fucking huge. No wonder you took so long."

His bruises had gotten darker. There was blood smeared along the side of his face and down his left arm as if he'd noticed it dripping and tried to wipe it away. The stains on his skin were mingled with sweat and dirt.

"Hold still. I brought a kit," Seto said as he popped it open and fished around for some packaged sanitary wipes. Jonouchi looked miffed.

"How about you stop bossing me around?" He retorted sharply. "I didn't ask you to coddle me, Richie."

Seto met his gaze, raising an eyebrow. He was more interested by the outburst than anything. Jonouchi seemed irrationally upset for the situation. Perhaps it was driven by embarrassment. Or he just had an irrational hatred for anything he identified as an order.

"I'm not forcing you to stay," Seto replied after a few seconds' silence. Then he stopped looking at Jonouchi, turning his gaze back to the supplies in the first aid kit. He wasn't sure how Jonouchi would respond to that. If he was angry or confident enough, he'd probably leave. Otherwise, he might take it as a challenge and stick around. Hopefully with his mouth shut.

Jonouchi didn't budge. Seto could tell he was uncomfortable by how tense he was, probably because he didn't know whether he was winning or losing. It didn't matter. If confusion kept him where he was, then he could stay confused.

"This is going to sting," Seto warned him a split second before lifting his shirt sleeve and wiping away the blood and dirt on the scrape there. It wasn't a light scrape, either. It looked like the skin had been either dragged across a rough surface or scuffed at high velocity. Jonouchi hissed when the wipe passed over him, and his jaw tensed while Seto cleaned the wound, but he didn't pull away or start whining.

They were both quiet for a little while as Seto busied himself with cleaning him up. He went through three of the wipes doing it, due to the abundance of blood and dirt. When he made it to Jonouchi's face and started cleaning the cut above his eye, he could feel hazel eyes on him. Seto tried to ignore it. It was making him feel strange, especially when the intensity of Jonouchi's gaze was so clear when their eyes occasionally met.

After he'd applied antiseptic cream to Jonouchi's various cuts and scrapes, he covered the open wounds with appropriately sized band-aids and sticky gauze. He gathered the empty wrappers and packed up the kit when he was finished. Jonouchi was still silent. Seto eventually tired of the tension and looked at him, confronted immediately with emotional eyes.

At first, he didn't speak and simply watched. He worked to keep his own expression neutral, despite how uncomfortable Jonouchi's eyes made him feel.

"...What?" He demanded finally. Jonouchi looked away.

"Nothing," he claimed at first, crossing his arms and staring at the ground. Then he sighed. "Shit, it's just... I've always taken care of myself. No one ever gave a fuck about whether I got patched up before."

Seto blinked, feeling very strange about Jonouchi's tone. He couldn't identify it, especially since his blond hair was obscuring his face too much for him to read it.

"So, thanks, I guess," Jonouchi muttered. It sounded like those words of gratitude cost him more than a breath to say.

"Don't mention it," Seto replied, waiting for Jonouchi to get his stupid grin back or start rubbing his neck like a moron. Anything but this unexpected sincerity. The way Jonouchi sounded when he spoke was so abnormal. Not just the gratitude in his voice, but the other element that Seto couldn't quite place.

To his good fortune, Jonouchi did return to himself like nothing had happened. He laughed, grinning and clasping his hands behind his neck. Seto noticed the way his muscles shifted under his skin when he raised them, especially the way his mussed and dirty shirt shifted under his defined chest.

"Like I'm gonna tell anyone that I had some rich kid playing nurse with me," Jonouchi snorted, "No thanks. I'd rather have people thinking I went to a hospital for a few scrapes."

Seto only hummed in response at these words. He didn't care if Jonouchi was putting on an act. It was considerably less awkward than him being strangely emotional with him. Honestly, he only gave him first aid.

And he'd only done it because Jonouchi was too stubborn and retarded to do it himself. That was all. Jonouchi didn't need to start making eyes at him for it like they were best friends now or something. Like it made him an object of admiration.

Admiration. That was the look in Jonouchi's eyes when he'd been staring at him that whole time. Admiration, and a little disbelief.

"You should get home before the sun sets," Seto suggested quietly. He looked at Jonouchi, who seemed to have completely recovered from whatever emotional state had bubbled to the surface only minutes ago. Now he looked thoughtful, and a little concerned as he nodded.

"Yeah, I need to. It's a long way back."

He gazed into the woods momentarily, as if contemplating the trail ahead of him, then shook his head and grinned at Seto.

"You got rid of me this time, Richie," he teased, "But don't think I won't be back. I wanna see the inside of that house."

"No, you don't," Seto replied before he could stop himself. Jonouchi made a weird face at him, likely due to the almost panicked tone in which he'd said it.

He couldn't help it. The image of Jonouchi being on the property with Gozaburo's knowledge was a perfectly reasonable panic trigger. God only knew what Gozaburo would do to Jonouchi-to both of them if he found some street trash in his house. Even more, he would be enraged by the fact that Seto was associating with him in the first place. That Seto favored him.

"What, your parents don't like poor people?" Jonouchi asked, his face scrunched up looking as if he was offended. He huffed. "Figures."

"My... father doesn't like strangers," Seto half-lied, almost choking on his own words when he referred to Gozaburo as his father, "I can have you over eventually. Just not soon."

Eventually? More like in the distant future. A year, at the very least. That was assuming he even wanted Jonouchi in his house. After it was his house, and not Gozaburo's.

Jonouchi gave him an uneven look, and it was obvious that he had a million questions, but before he could ask, his eyes were drawn to the position of the sun.

"If you say so, Takahashi," Jonouchi snorted, seemingly recovered from his offense, "But I'm holding you to that."

He started to leave, strolling toward the creek so he wouldn't lose his way. He paused for a second or two, and then turned, grinning broadly. Seto had never met anyone who smiled as easily as Jonouchi. Then again, he didn't get out very much.

"Thanks again," Jonouchi called, giving Seto a wave and walking toward town when he got a nod of acknowledgment.

Once Jonouchi was out of sight, Seto grabbed the first-aid kit and walked briskly back to the mansion. There was little that the fresh air could do to clear his head now, as it would only remind him of what had just happened. That, and there was little time left in the day and he needed to take advantage of Gozaburo's absence. He still had foundations to lay for his plans, and whatever free hours he had during the day were mostly spent on them.

Jonouchi had been an unexpected distraction. How was he supposed to work around a distraction like that? Or know that Jonouchi would just end up at his doorstep bedraggled and tired out of the blue.? Sure, he and Jonouchi knew one another, but that didn't mean he expected to see him everywhere. Certainly not at Kaiba Mansion. Jonouchi was something else, following him home to find out where he lived. Seto couldn't believe he hadn't noticed that he was being followed. It wasn't as if the woods were full of noise that would obscure distant footsteps. Maybe Jonouchi wasn't the excitable spaz he often seemed to be.

Why had he even been so determined to find out where Seto lived? Was he abnormally nosey or had it been something else? Maybe he'd been looking for somewhere to hole up if something happened. Like he got his ass kicked.

When Seto got to his room, he locked the door behind him. He didn't want any unexpected disruptions, and since Gozaburo was gone, it was unlikely that he'd need to give any servants passage. Even so, he felt unduly paranoid despite Gozaburo's absence. It was as if his presence still lingered in the house when he was gone.

The house staff was no laxer when he left than when he was at the mansion. Seto was more immune to the effects, but the tension wasn't lost on him. Gozaburo had built his reputation and his empire on fear and exploitation. His power, in business and over others, came from control and scare tactics.

That did make him sound simple, in Seto's head. But he knew better. Gozaburo never threw his weight around unless he was bragging or putting someone in their place. Even just as a man, he was so proficient at digging into the deepest recesses of his target's mind that it was almost impossible to know he was doing it. Seto was aware, of course, because he'd had to learn. That was survival. But Gozaburo's business partners were like sitting ducks in comparison.

No one liked him very much. People disliked being made to fear, even if it did take an excessive push to make them fight back. Seto's idea, in part, was to turn Gozaburo's long-time targets against him. The board of directors would be a good start. Unlike most companies, the board at Kaiba Corporation had little to no power over the CEO. They were an accessory. They were pawns posed as generals, unable to make decisions without Gozaburo's approval. If not for that, they would have replaced him years ago. He mistreated all five of them regularly, as he mistreated everyone, but they were powerless against him.

Fortunately for Seto, they were also scumbags. They would be happy to turn on Gozaburo if they thought the opportunity to be good enough. Seto would have to ensure that he had the credibility to back himself up when he vied for their support. No one really knew much about him, except that he was "educated", and of course, the adopted son of the Kaiba empire. Gozaburo didn't tote him as a genius. He enjoyed showing off Seto's accomplishments and letting others call him brilliant-a prodigy. But Gozaburo himself wanted Seto as something of a secret weapon when the time came, so to others, he was just a child. A sharp young man with a very powerful father. Nothing more.

The board of directors likely had the same impression. He'd hardly ever interacted with them, and when he had, it was at parties. Forced, passive-aggressive socializing at one of Gozaburo's little celebrations was hardly enough to impress anyone.

He leaned back in his seat. He did have Daimon, who was on the board, but he still tried to keep the majority of his plans secret from him. He knew that his "advisor" couldn't be trusted. If he got a whiff of conspiracy, and it didn't suit his desires, then Gozaburo would hear of it immediately. Seto would have to string him along. Impress him with his business prowess and intelligence, so that he, in turn, would express what he'd seen to the rest of the board. Then Seto could speak with them himself, once he'd made enough money for his massive venture, and created enough of a name for himself to be credible.

It was hardly complicated. He'd been trained to control and manipulate since the day he'd arrived at Kaiba mansion. Living with Gozaburo was all the experience anyone needed with social engineering, in itself. The textbooks and tutors, and actual field experience, those were bonuses. Seto considered himself well-equipped to execute his plan, and he already had his eye on where to start.

Obviously, he'd need money. The best and fastest way to get it would be extortion, of course. Legal extortion, but still extortion. He'd explained the idea to his brother a few short days ago when Seto had managed to get a few moments with him. He was going to find small companies and buy out their shares until he owned fifty-one percent, and then he could make them do whatever he wanted. Including threatening them into buying back their own shares at multiple times what he'd paid.

It was a filthy strategy, and he knew it. However, his options were limited. He had less than a year now to take over Kaiba Corporation. Not only take it over but destroy the current CEO. Gozaburo still had money and power. Just taking the company wouldn't be enough. He would have to take away every connection Gozaburo had ever made and either turn them over or remove them completely. Seto would have to make people more inclined to follow him than fear retribution from his adoptive father. It wasn't going to be an easy task.

But he'd played difficult games all his life. This was nothing he couldn't handle.

Seto didn't write down plans. It wasn't a good idea, in his experience. He'd created fully detailed schematics for the Solid Illusion software and Gozaburo had stolen them. It was being exploited in Libya and Syria for its weapon capabilities. Gozaburo wasn't above trying to sabotage him, either, so it was too risky to keep any kind of journal, even in code.

He could store everything in his head. It came easily to him. Every little bit of his plan that he worked out stayed in his memory, in its proper place and order, without the use of memos or notes. If not for that, he knew his chances of success would be close to nothing.

Seto spent the rest of the evening investigating companies to target, as well as their state on the stock market and the prices he'd have to pay per share. It would take a huge chunk of what he had to purchase fifty-one percent of even one company, but that was what made selling back so effective. His profit would ultimately dwarf his spending. He could make one hundred million with ease before the year was up, but that money wasn't going to be used to pay off his "loan". That would be his treasury for attacking Kaiba Corporation.

Seto didn't stay awake past midnight. Gozaburo would be back in the morning, and of course sleeping past the early morning wouldn't be acceptable. He'd need his wits about him if he was going to return to his constant verbal dance with his adoptive father, especially since he had more to hide every day and Gozaburo's paranoia grew proportionally. It wasn't as if he couldn't detect a secret. It was whether or not he could sniff out what it was that determined Seto's success.

Even though he hadn't so much as thought about it for hours, his mind wandered back to his encounter with Jonouchi as he was falling asleep. He was more tired than he'd known, and his brain was running half-dreamed images past his mind's eye as he lost consciousness. Distorted memories of that afternoon came and went. As he fell asleep, he could almost feel Jonouchi's hazel eyes on him again, staring more intensely than any friend should.


	9. Chapter 9

Parties were always so slow, but at least the food was different. Usually, Gozaburo stuck to the traditional sukiyaki cuisine that he preferred when he was alone but whenever guests came over, he always tried to appear more international than he actually was. That meant filet mignon for dinner, something Seto secretly favored, with roasted vegetables and different specialty side dishes Gozaburo probably only chose because they sounded fancy.

Sitting at the table, Seto watched from the corners of his eyes as Gozaburo hardly ate any of it. He probably found the food distasteful, despite having chosen it, but their gaijin guests seemed to enjoy it. That, or they were trying to be polite. It was hardly the standard cuisine in their country of origin, but it wasn't as impressive to provide Danish dishes at a business dinner as it was to serve French.

Filet mignon was very tempting but Seto couldn't really enjoy eating the prized cut of beef while his attention was split between what was on his plate and what was happening from across the table. Gozaburo seemed like he was in deep conversation with one of his associate's sons, who couldn't be more than sixteen or seventeen. Seto didn't understand why he'd be interested in talking to a kid, but he paid attention anyways.

The exchange was strange. Gozaburo kept moving near his personal space while the boy shyly moved back as if uncomfortable. Despite both his parents watching with slightly alarmed looks, they did nothing and Seto watched in silence, bringing his dinner to his mouth without saying a word. The dull conversation just seemed to last forever.

"Ivan, have you thought about interning at Kaiba Corporation? We're always looking for young talent such as yourself, and your father told me you graduated valedictorian. We could certainly find a use for you somewhere if you are interested."

Gozaburo was smoking that cigar of his, the smoke puffing out of his mouth as he played with it between his teeth. Seto frowned; watching Gozaburo reminded him of a cat playing with a mouse. It was obvious that the Danish teen wasn't interested but he kept pressing offers, and even his mother spoke up about his interest in engineering at one point.

"Oh, Ivan's been looking into going to school in Japan for sometime, he knows the language fluently," she offered, glancing at her husband afterwards like she needed some sort of approval for saying so.

It was just so strange. Seto narrowed his eyes looking at all the guests at the table; there were three Danish businessman there sitting at attendance, each with their wives. Only one brought their son and daughter, probably as bait.

Or at least it seemed like that. The daughter, Danica, had to be Seto's age, but she was boring and appeared mousy. Despite her Nordic features and fair complexion, she lacked any sort of outward personality and wouldn't look anyone in the eyes. Maybe she was trying to appear polite but Seto found it grating, and he immediately took a dislike to her. She had tried conversation with him but Seto just pretended she hadn't spoken at all.

Then there was Ivan, the son. His father had placed him right near Gozaburo. There was nothing accidental about the arrangement and it made Seto think hard about how well he actually knew his adoptive father. Did he have tendencies he wasn't aware of? If that as the case, Seto's lack of knowledge was not acceptable, he needed to learn everything about his enemies, so he watched silently and patiently to understand fully what was happening in front of him.

He was fortunately not required or expected to engage with the guests. Aside from the quiet girl sitting beside him, no one approached him with the expectation that he'd be speaking with them. He was pleased to have the opportunity to observe without being equally scrutinized. The guests at the table seemed to assume he was just Gozaburo's son, in attendance simply because he also lived in the mansion. And, of course, so he could be shown off.

If all that was required of him was sitting quietly and looking good, then he could put up with it. There were considerably worse alternatives. He watched the businessmen who were in attendance with their wives. Power couples, of course, putting on the appearance of a patriarchal relationship when they were equally engaged (and probably knowledgeable) about the conversation. The women sat quietly for the most part, only speaking about irrelevant things, and always looked at their husbands while doing so. The two minors in attendance were absolutely silent unless first addressed.

Ivan got most of the attention, in that regard. Not only from Gozaburo (which honestly, Ivan didn't look pleased about), but also from the others in attendance. He apparently had a more impressive record than his younger sister. Seto wasn't overly concerned with him. Despite being two years Ivan's junior, he was sure he had a considerably better track record regarding achievements. They made eye contact occasionally, Seto's deep blue eyes meeting much lighter, crystalline ones, but he never granted that long a gaze. Ivan was at the opposite end of the table, and of no interest.

He was boring, in Seto's opinion. His looks were somewhat striking, compared to his sister's. She had darker hair and eyes, whereas Ivan was practically Germanic in looks and had classically handsome features. But he was so impossibly obedient that Seto could barely stand to watch him. It was as if he'd had Seto's training and _enjoyed_ it.

When the group retired to the smaller dining room for tea, Ivan unexpectedly inserted himself beside Seto. It was probably partly to evade Gozaburo, but from the way he hesitantly smiled and made deliberate eye contact, it seemed he intended to make conversation. Hopefully he'd scare as easily as his mousy little sister. Probably not, but Seto was allowed to dream, wasn't he?

"We didn't really get an opportunity to introduce ourselves personally," Ivan noted, his voice low. Everyone was speaking more quietly now that the quarters were smaller. The showing off of children was over for the time being, and the adults were actually discussing business now.

"I'm sure there was a reason for that..." Seto muttered under his breath in reply.

He turned towards the windows, immediately losing interest in the other while not trying to hide that fact. For as long as he could remember, Seto always disliked his peers, and dealing with anyone who went to parties acting like a trained dog looking for treats did not deserve his attention. Even if they were attractive looking, it wasn't enough to make Seto intrigued. Handsome wasn't enough for him when the personality was completely lacking.

"Um," Ivan's face didn't falter, except for his big, round eyes; Seto could see that he wasn't as confident as he'd been while speaking before. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to make him sit quietly for the remainder of the evening, as it had been in the case of his sister. "Do your father's guests stay the night very often?"

"That's dependent on how charitable Kaiba Gozaburo is feeling."

Apparently they had made an impression if they were going to stay the night. Sometimes that happened, it wasn't unusual, but usually the guests weren't minors. Seto wasn't sure what to think of that, but he really didn't want to either, and turning his attention completely over to stirring his tea, he tried giving Ivan the cold shoulder.

"You don't seem to enjoy social dinners very much," Ivan seemed to be fishing for some topic that would make Seto more talkative, "Are you shy, or would you just rather be doing something else?"

"I'd rather be left alone," replied Seto, giving Ivan a pointed look, "But you don't seem capable of understanding social cues."

"Understanding is simple," Ivan smiled, but it seemed a little bit vicious, "Acknowledging is left to the individual."

He turned back to his tea, hopefully finished trying to make conversation for the rest of the evening. If he wanted a friend to speak with, he should try his sister, in Seto's opinion. She certainly looked like she could use it, timid thing that she was. But she was the youngest in a business family, and from the way she was treated, she probably wasn't making acceptable progress compared to her brother.

Seto was glad that Mokuba wasn't forced to attend these dinners. He wouldn't be able to juggle them as well, or dance around business partners so easily, if he had to worry about looking out for his younger brother while doing it. And he would certainly need looking after since Mokuba had neither training nor prowess for interpersonal politics.

Watching the guests drink their tea, he noticed when the Danish siblings were the first to leave for bed. One of the servants retrieved them, leading them up to the guest rooms. Seto hoped they wouldn't be close to where he and Mokuba slept. He didn't want to see them wandering around near his bedroom in the middle of the night, and since Seto usually didn't sleep well, it was likely that he'd be out walking around the hallways once he knew Gozaburo had retired.

Afterwards the two businessmen with their wives left, driving back to their respective hotels, and it was just Seto, the parents of the Danish children, and Gozaburo. They were speaking in hushed voices, and the wife looked upset but didn't say a word. She just sat there, frowning, while Gozaburo laughed and drank several glasses of wine, along with the husband.

Seto wanted to know what they were talking about but he was too far away to hear any of it. It would raise suspicion if he tried eavesdropping, and he was tired as it was already. Although it was unlikely that he'd get much rest, it still felt good just trying to relax and hopefully falling to sleep at a decent time.

Besides, nothing of much interest was happening. Getting up and excusing himself, he left the room and went upstairs. Gozaburo didn't even force him to stay like usual, just merely nodded at him before getting sucked back into whatever conversation he was having with the Danish guests.

No matter.

After changing out of his dinner clothes and putting on his pajamas, Seto went about his evening ritual, brushing his teeth and relieving himself before going to bed. Physically, he was tired but he didn't feel quite ready to sleep. So he laid on his back, looking up at the ceiling while he thought past what he'd seen earlier. He kept his mind away from the realm of the party guests and what they were discussing in hushed voices in the tea room that moment. They could be discussing anything with Gozaburo, and the specific topic being negotiated wasn't one Seto wished to explore.

That, and he found the guests generally annoying. Danica hadn't been so bad overall, if only because she'd taken the hint better to buzz off like Seto had hoped. Ivan, on the other hand, had been infuriatingly determined to get his attention. Seto had no interest in receiving it. Ivan had a certain intensity about his gaze while watching him that Seto understood and yet couldn't quite identify, and it hadn't made him any more willing to be social.

He decided that letting his thoughts wander freely wasn't helping much, and so Seto sat up, turning on the lamp at his bedside before standing and fishing his library books out of their hiding place. He sat cross-legged in bed with one open in his lap, observing the pictures. Despite the fact that he'd opened the book several times since it came into his possession, it hadn't lost its value. If anything, repeated observation had only eased his embarrassment about it and made him more able to look at the images within unabated.

What he wasn't sure whether or not he should be pleased about was the fact that the pictures of men together didn't make him uncomfortable anymore. He wouldn't say they stirred him, certainly not like the other couplings, but he didn't shy away from them like they were infectious as he had before. It made him wonder, as much as he didn't want to. It seemed futile to wonder about something as complex as sexuality when he didn't know anything about it. Obviously, he'd endured Gozaburo's opinions on the subject, but he'd learned long ago to disregard Gozaburo's _opinions._

Seto wasn't sure what to make of it. Working outside of a sexual context, he found men and women equally pleasing to the eye, and interesting in some cases. Ivan and Danica were both attractive teenagers, in his opinion, even if he wasn't interested in them. And that was immensely troubling. He didn't want that to mean he might be attracted to men, certainly not in the same context as women. It was a frightening idea, if only because of the possible ramifications if he was discovered.

Of course, the Danish siblings were hardly a good study. Neither of them made him want, or piqued his interest physically. They didn't even catch his attention intellectually. They weren't _stimulating_ in any context, at least not to him. Although, considering his basis of comparison, they didn't have much of a chance, he supposed.

His mind kept wandering back to Jonouchi, not so much because he particularly favored the idea, but because he knew Jonouchi was interesting. He was crude, wild, and grated on the nerves when he didn't feel like being friendly, but all that only made him a better subject. Moreover, he was attractive. He'd had the good fortune of inheriting a good combination of Caucasian and Japanese physiognomy traits, and it showed despite his often-messy appearance.

Seto wasn't sure what to make of it. It would be one thing if he was simply acknowledging that Jonouchi was attractive, as he did with the siblings Ivan and Danica. That would be something he could easily brush off.

However, Jonouchi was particular, in that Seto found him _particularly_ attractive, and that was the cause of his struggle. One he couldn't solve, because he didn't have any information on the subject. The sex book depicted males together (and several combinations of men and women, besides) but offered no real information about the reason behind it. Just information, explanations of positions, safety tips...not to say that things like that weren't probably useful, but they didn't assist Seto in any way. He needed information about theory, not practice.

He looked over the pictures with greater scrutiny than usual. He didn't know what he'd think about being with a man. The concept was strange and uncomfortable to him, honestly. Not as uncomfortable as it had been the first day he opened the book, evidently, but still not something he wanted to explore very much. He didn't like the idea of being the submissive partner, certainly. It was beyond his level of cooperation. He couldn't see himself lying still for someone, regardless of whom, and certainly not for another male. It seemed as if it would reflect poorly on him, somehow.

And then there was the method. If he ever was in a situation to do something with someone of the same sex, he didn't want to be on the receiving end of intercourse. No, thank you. The very thought made him wrinkle his nose in disdain and frown until he shook it off. Regardless of how much fun the men in the pictures seemed to be having, he couldn't imagine that the experience was pleasant, and had no intention of testing that theory.

Maybe he could go as far as touching, if he was trying to discover his comfort level. It didn't seem as alienating as oral or anal sex, nor as invasive. It wasn't as if he'd never touched a penis before. He had his own. He just didn't like the idea of having one in any of his orifices.

That said, he wasn't so opposed to giving oral to a woman. It was a much more comfortable realm of thought for him, and he was hardly ashamed about it. Thinking about sexual situations with women was far more comfortable and put him off significantly less. No, he wouldn't mind putting his mouth on a woman. He was even slightly interested in the idea and considered it worth trying if the opportunity arose, even if he found out later that he didn't care for it.

Seto sighed, turning back to the heterosexual portion of the book. He'd been surprised by the pictures of male-to-female anal the first time he'd seen it. It had struck him as being entirely unnecessary, and frankly rather disgusting, but after actually reading the explanations the book had to offer, he'd felt less prejudiced. Still not particularly interested, since he couldn't imagine it would feel better than vaginal penetration. He hoped that if he did find a woman in the future, she wouldn't insist on something like that. He didn't want to try it, and wasn't sure what he'd think of a girl who did.

The book just wasn't informative enough about the _whys_ of sex and sexuality. It was very instructive regarding the practice, but it wasn't enough. If he wanted to understand himself and his own boundaries, he'd need to understand the psychology behind it all. And none of Gozaburo's ranting about mental illness and sickness had been very illuminating, so Seto would be left to his own resources.

He was starting to feel tired from puzzling over it, to the point that he wasn't really focusing on the pages anymore as he turned them, so he closed the book and returned it to the hiding place with the others. He resolved to take another trip to the library at the nearest opportunity and hopefully find something to help him figure it all out. He honestly didn't know how much he would find, or if there was anything to find in the first place, but if they had how-to books for sex there, they must have something about sexuality. There was a full section dedicated to it, even though most of the books on "sexuality" were actually about the sex itself.

He turned off the light as he got into bed, his mind fortunately not particularly focused on any one thing. It would be easier for sleep to overtake him if he wasn't trying to problem solve. He exhaled a deep sigh as he settled in on his back, his eyes closed. Scattered images from the events of the evening appeared here and there, but he was too tired to form coherent understanding of them. Closing his eyes, he allowed sleep finally to overtake him.

* * *

It was still dark when he finally realized he was laying in his bedroom. And looking to the other side of his mattress, he was surprised to find it disheveled, like someone had just crawled out from the sheets. Seto didn't remember Mokuba getting up and joining him that night, but maybe he had and didn't say anything.

Ah well, might as well try giving him a visit.

But when he stepped outside into the hallway, he became distracted by the fact that the Danish boy was wandering around the hallway. Seto could see his blond hair in the darkness, and he was heading downstairs and across the foyer at a run, which alarmed Seto. He had to chase after him to keep up, not feeling his feet hitting the ground as he tried catching up, and once outside near the grounds, he finally yelled the teen's name.

"Ivan," he called out, slowing down as he was out of breath, "Where are you going? Security will see you."

The boy didn't reply back. He just kept running and Seto couldn't keep up well, but he followed out of the grounds and into one of the guest houses in the woods. Seto didn't remember seeing them but he had heard of them from Isono, and apparently Ivan had a key, because he'd unlocked the door and didn't bother locking it behind him before Seto followed after.

It was small, like a cabin inside. Looking around, Seto finally caught up with Ivan, grabbing his shoulder and spinning around before he nearly fell over from shock.

"Jonouchi?" He narrowed his eyes, backing away and reaching for the door, "What were you doing in my house?"

"I had, uh, a job to do," His hazel eyes were avoiding looking up at Seto, but he looked upset, uncomfortable even, "But it's done now and we can hang out again. You wanna?"

Seto didn't exactly believe him. Jonouchi wasn't a part of the household and he sat on the edge of the bed trying to figure that out when he found himself being approached, Jonouchi moving close to his face before grinning at him.

"Did you steal something from the house?" asked Seto hesitantly.

"No, it wasn't that," Jonouchi muttered. "Really, I want to forget about what I had to do. Just relax and trust me. Close your eyes, I'm good at this..."

He could feel himself laying down, but Seto didn't remember thinking to do so. His head was resting on a pillow, and he watched unsure as Jonouchi started touching his chest, unzipping his pants and pulling them down past his hips before doing the same with his boxers. It reminded him of the pictures in his books and Seto wanted to say something, but his voice couldn't rise.

"You look tense, _richie_ ," teased Jonouchi as he took Seto's dick into his hand and began stroking the growing erection, "I know how to please a man."

Seto wanted to interject with a _how_ , but then Jonouchi's mouth was on his head and he threw his head back into the pillow before he could question him. Everything became fuzzy and strange, his body growing hotter and lighter. He could feel his groin tensing as his hips bucked, and suddenly he shot up, looking out into darkness and finding himself alone in his bedroom.

And there was fresh ejaculate in his boxers.

"Dammit, you have to be fucking kidding me..." he grumbled.

Stumbling to the bathroom to clean up the mess, Seto's body still felt like it was recovering from sleep paralysis. His legs felt weak from having a nocturnal emission, but he didn't want to sit and wait before cleaning up. The warm, wet feeling in his underwear was quickly getting sticky and clingy as it cooled.

Once he'd dropped his underwear in his laundry hamper and cleaned up satisfactorily, he got back into bed, feeling uncomfortably stiff. He hadn't had much relief from the result of his dream, which only made him more cross. The dream itself, despite the eroticism, made him deeply uncomfortable, and he felt a strange sensation of guilt worming into him. He tried to brush that away, but he could feel it lurking in his mind regardless.

It had to be his subconscious toying with him, of course. Everything he'd had on his mind before bed thrown into one hot mess of a fantasy. It was the logical explanation, but he couldn't shake the disturbed feeling with which he'd been left after waking.

And, of course, there was the fact that he'd had an orgasm dreaming about Jonouchi, which addled his brain with all kinds of complicated questions. He chose to disregard them, opting for sleep instead. He felt chilly, his chest constricted, but he tried to get past it. There was nothing he could do about it, after all. His best option was getting as much sleep as he could before the night was over.

Still, the sickening feelings of guilt and shame continued to dog him until he lost consciousness again, and he felt an odd sense of dread for the coming morning, though it didn't seem sensible.


End file.
